


On a Planet that Insists

by ravyn_ashling, shes_gone



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Shower Sex, Teen Angst, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:37:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravyn_ashling/pseuds/ravyn_ashling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shes_gone/pseuds/shes_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur moved halfway around the world to escape the things he'd rather forget. A year at Camelot should have been easy, but a precious few things worked the way that Arthur thought they should, anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Planet that Insists

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [merlinreversebb](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/merlinreversebb)! :D I'm just gonna go ahead and apologise for my innumerable misunderstandings about secondary education in the UK. Pinch hitting left me without time to find a Britpicker, oops. I would probably have been better off making this a North American high school AU, but. I didn't want to. So if you don't mind too much, please suspend your disbelief and forgive me? :D? <3 SPEAKING OF HIGH SCHOOL AUs. I've never felt inspired write one before? Set in any country? But I saw ravyn_ashling's [adorable art](http://media.tumblr.com/857b913b6a64f58ef351ed514886417d/tumblr_mis6p0oJRR1rp3v9to1_500.jpg) and was just like @____@ yes, without question, this is happening. AND I HAD SUCH FUN DOING IT. :DDDD Teenagers, man—just so enjoyably earnest and dumb (i.e., the same as Arthur & Merlin as adults). Title's from Ani DiFranco, because I'm incapable of titles that aren't song lyrics. 
> 
> So many thanks to my inspirational artist, my cheerleading housemates, my speedy and indispensable betas, and the wonderful mod. ♥
> 
> ravyn_ashling's Art Masterpost is [here](http://curtain-green.livejournal.com/6640.html)!

Arthur had been fiddling with the buckle on his rucksack for a few minutes before he noticed himself doing it. He frowned, and shoved the offending hand into his jacket pocket. His window was down a couple of inches and he could hear the car's tires on the wet road, kicking up a spray. Fucking rain. Fucking England. Arthur was glad to be back, mostly, but in the three years he'd been away, he'd largely forgotten about all the rain.

For the third time in the seven minutes since they'd left the flat, Arthur pulled up his email on his phone. There still wasn't anything new, so he switched back to his GPS app and watched the blue triangle tick forward until the name of his destination appeared at the top of the screen. "Stop before we cross the next road," he said to his driver.

Leon looked up and found Arthur's eye in the rear view mirror, with raised eyebrows. "I've strict instructions to drop you off right at the front door."

"I understand that," Arthur replied, "but." He took a breath. "Please, Leon. It's the first day." 

Leon held his gaze for another few seconds before looking forward again. He pulled the car to the side of the road, and stopped.

Arthur grinned as he climbed out of the car with his bag over his shoulder and opened his umbrella. "You can follow ten to fifteen yards behind me, if it'll ease your conscience," he said after Leon lowered his window. 

"My conscience is fine," Leon said, stifling a smile. "I'll see you at three-thirty. Should I meet you back here, or by the front door?" 

"Can I text you?" 

Leon nodded. "I'll assume here, if I don't hear from you."

"Thanks, Leon," Arthur said, and meant it. "I'll let you know." He adjusted the strap of his bag. "See you later," he said, and didn't move.

"Everything OK?" Leon asked.

Arthur looked at him and away quickly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, everything's great," and he started walking towards the school. 

"Have a good day," Leon called after him. 

Arthur raised a hand in thanks, and kept walking. Just one year to get through before uni, he reminded himself, and then everyone would be new.

#

Armed with his time table and a list of room numbers he'd received by post the week before, Arthur had managed to find several of the rooms he'd need later in the day, and three loos along the way—he'd used one, and made note of the other two—but the first classroom on his list didn't seem to be anywhere, and the crowd of students in the corridor had begun thinning out.

"Excuse me," he said to a girl who appeared to know where she was going, "Hi, I'm Arthur." She looked surprised, and he gave her his most charming smile.

Her eyes flitted down to his jacket—his red one, from the football team at his last school—her brows still raised. She smiled, barely, and didn't stop walking. "Yes?"

"Do you know where Pendleton 302 is, by chance?"

"Up those stairs and to the right," she said, pointing back in the direction from which Arthur had come.

"Thanks very much," he said as she passed him and kept walking. He watched her for a moment, a tiny bit baffled, before breaking into a jog towards the stairs she'd pointed to.

Her directions proved correct, so he decided not to hold her lack of friendliness against her. He made it into the classroom just before the teacher started taking the register, and slid into one of the few open seats in the back. Glancing around the room as each name was called, Arthur took in his classmates, wondering who he'd end up knowing, trying to figure out who he should befriend first. It was hard to tell much of anything from the last row. 

Afterwards, as they all filed out of the classroom, Arthur smiled and nodded in greeting at few of them. Some of them smiled back, awkwardly, but they averted their eyes as they walked by him quickly without saying hello. 

He was late to Economics, but managed to find Spanish with a few minutes to spare. He took a seat near a couple of boys who looked like they might be athletes. "Hey, sorry," he said to them, when there was a lull in their conversation, "just want to check—this is Founders 201, yeah? Spanish? All these wing names have me a bit turned around." 

One of them nodded. "Yeah."

"Great, thanks. I'm Arthur." He thought about extending his hand, but they couldn't shake without stretching awkwardly, so he didn't.

"Freddy," replied one. "And this is Tom." Tom nodded, and said nothing.

"Nice to meet you. So, is the food in the canteen here any good?" Arthur asked, conversationally. "Think I'm ready for lunch already."

"S'all right," Freddy replied, while Tom shrugged. 

"Good," Arthur said, nodding. "Great." 

They didn't speak again as the classroom filled up, and when the class was over, both Freddy and Tom left without so much as a glance Arthur's way. 

"Right, then," Arthur said, to the no one who was listening to him. 

There was a twenty minute break between Spanish and his next class, so Arthur found a bench and sat on it, pulled out one of the satsumas in his rucksack and began peeling it, trying to look as friendly as possible. He'd brought a second one to offer whatever new friend he might have by break time, but after ten minutes of watching group after group of students pass by him without so much as a interested glance, he pulled it out and ate it himself. Then he pulled out his phone to check his email. The only thing he had was a Google Alert linking to a mention of the rookie players on the Georgetown University soccer team. It was old news, so he deleted it without clicking the link, and then distracted himself from the sudden ache in his chest by playing a fifty-three point word against Leon in Words with Friends. 

Noontime was somehow both too fast and too slow in coming, and as Arthur let the current of the crowd pull him in what he hoped was the direction of the canteen, his eyes caught on a sheet of paper pinned to the board outside the headmaster's office. _Student Council Election Sign-Up_ , it read across the top, and Arthur felt his heart lift. He'd been class president at his last school, and he'd loved it, even more than he'd loved football some days. He'd been good at it, too, and it was a role that even seemed to impress his father, which was something Arthur could do with a bit more of these days.

He strode over to the board and wrote his name at the top of the list, already formulating his election speech in his mind.

#

Arthur had to go outside to get to the canteen, and as he crossed the wet lawn, he watched with curiosity as a stream of students exited a building he'd not yet been inside: Sorcerer's Hall, according to the placard over the door. He'd read on the Camelot website that the Sorcery students had their magic classes all in a row in the morning, and then spent the afternoon fully integrated with the non-magic students.

Arthur watched them, all these teenage sorcerers, careful not to look too interested. He noticed a couple of them glancing back at him with vague interest. He looked away, just in time to not trip over a bicycle that lay on its side, half-blocking the path. Arthur frowned and stepped around it, rolling his eyes at the dozens of bicycles haphazardly strewn around the small row of stands nearby. 

Inside the canteen, Arthur surveyed the offerings—pasta twirls and mince beef, jacket potatoes and mixed salad—and wasn't completely unimpressed. It smelt decent enough, anyway. He paid for his lunch and walked out into the table area, eyes scanning the crowd. 

He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly—maybe a table of beautiful, obviously popular people, maybe a group of footballers, maybe just the person who'd offered him the least awkward smile over the course of the morning—but what he found was a pair of startling blue eyes fixed on him from a couple of tables over. Arthur stared back at them for a moment, taking in the kid they were attached to—a pale, skinny kid with enormous ears and a tousle of jet-black hair—and felt his heart speed up before he managed to look away. He examined a piece of lettuce on his plate, and when he looked back, the kid was still looking right at him. 

The kid smiled at him, genuinely, the first truly friendly smile Arthur had seen all day, and something deep inside him flared to life. Jittery and unsure of himself, Arthur threw a glance over his shoulder, in case the smile was meant for someone else. There wasn't anyone there, and when Arthur looked back at him, the kid's smile was even bigger, and his eyes were laughing. There was nothing mean about it, though, and Arthur felt the pull of him even more strongly. 

Someone else at the kid's table called for his attention, and the connection between them was broken. Arthur blinked and registered the other people at the kid's very full table—all just as geeky and overly earnest—not at all the sort of friends Arthur should be looking for on his first day. 

Angry with himself, Arthur swallowed against a burn of nerves and frustration and looked around the room again, finally spotting the familiar faces of the blokes he'd talked to briefly in his Spanish class. A much safer option for many reasons, not the least of which being that there was an empty seat at their table, Arthur walked over to them, determined to keep hold of his senses.

"You mind?" he asked, hovering his plate a few inches over the table. They shrugged. "Tommy and Fred, right?" he said, as he sat.

"Freddy and Tom," Freddy corrected him.

"Sorry, of course. Arthur," he reminded them, and they didn't say anything. He took a long drink of water, then picked up his fork. "So," he said, scooping some beef and spearing a couple twirls of pasta, "you blokes play football?"

It was a moment before Freddy said, "Yeah."

"Great, me too. Looking forward to the trials tomorrow. Was the club any good last term?"

It was another long moment before Freddy answered, "Nope."

"Ah, well. Nowhere to go but up, then, eh?" Arthur said. Freddy just shrugged, and Tom didn't say anything.

Arthur chewed his lunch and checked his watch.

#

Arthur's first class after lunch was Financial Studies, which he expected would be a waste of his time—his father had been giving him rigorous financial lessons from the day he'd first opened a cheque account in his own name, and he'd been investing his own money since he was thirteen. But it would look good on his uni applications, and he certainly wasn't opposed to freeing up his timetable a bit with an easy class. With no reason to linger in the canteen, he got to the room early and picked a seat in the second row.

He'd just pulled his notebook out of his bag when he glanced up at someone coming into the room, and his blood spiked when he saw it was the kid from the canteen, who Arthur had rather hoped he would never see again. Arthur swallowed and pretended not to notice him, busying himself with checking his pockets for a biro. The kid sat down in the seat next to him, and Arthur could feel his gaze as he scribbled against his notebook, checking the biro had ink.

"So," the kid said, after a moment, "you're new."

Arthur looked at him, his skin hot and annoying. "Well spotted," he replied, sarcastic. 

The kid's eyebrows ticked up a bit, but all he said was, "I'm Merlin," and extended his hand.

"Arthur," he replied, and reluctantly shook his hand. 

It was a mistake. The contact sent something shivering up Arthur's arm and down his spine, and he all but snatched his hand away. Merlin stared at him, startled. Arthur looked determinedly at his desk.

"How's your first day going?" Merlin asked, after a moment. 

"Great," Arthur said shortly. "Everything's great."

"People being nice?" 

Arthur felt himself starting to scowl. "People are always nice to me."

"Glad to hear it," Merlin replied, ignoring Arthur's tone. "Let me know if that changes, and I'll be happy to help. I wouldn't want anyone giving you a hard time."

Arthur's scowl deepened. "I can assure you that I won't need any help making friends from the likes of _you_ ," he snapped. Merlin blinked at him, his eyes flashing with hurt, and Arthur's chest twisted. He clenched his jaw to the point of pain. 

"Hey," came a boy's voice from the desk behind Arthur's, "don't you talk to him like that."

"Excuse me?" Arthur turned around in his seat and took in the sight of the kid behind him, just as hopeless as Merlin. 

"I said," the kid replied defiantly, "don't you talk to Merlin like that. He's taking pity on you, being friendly." 

"Gilli—" Merlin started, but Arthur cut in, 

"Taking _pity_? On me?" 

Gilli just raised his eyebrows. Arthur stared at him. "Listen," he began, but this time Merlin spoke over him. 

"It's fine, Gilli," he said, and looked pointedly at Arthur. "Arthur here clearly doesn't understand where he is just yet. He'll learn." Gilli smirked at Arthur for another moment, but backed down at Merlin's direction. Arthur turned to Merlin. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" 

Merlin shrugged one shoulder. "You'll find that things don't work here quite the way they did at your last school. I suggest you lose this attitude of yours quickly, or you're not going to have a very nice time here." 

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" Arthur said again.

"Listen," Gilli snapped, leaning hard over his desk to get as close to Arthur as he could, "your bullshit beautiful-posh-footballer routine may have put you on top at whatever shit-hole school you just came from, but here? No one gives a shit. So shut it." 

"Gilli—" Merlin said, and Arthur was still working up to his response when the teacher walked in and shut the classroom door, commanding the class's attention.

Arthur stewed for the full forty-five minutes, not hearing a word of what the teacher said. When the class ended, he took his time gathering his things, waiting for the right moment to turn around and confront Gilli. 

But before he could, a crowd of students gathered around Gilli's and Merlin's desks, talking excitedly about things Arthur didn't understand. He took a deep breath and, thinking it unwise to pick a fight with an entire crowd on his first day, finished getting his stuff together and left the room, careful not to move too quickly lest anyone get the idea that he was running away.

#

"Arthur!" someone called from the crowded corridor behind him. "Hey, Arthur, wait."

Arthur clenched his jaw angrily, wishing he didn't already recognise his voice. He'd turned up in all three of Arthur's afternoon classes: Literature after Financial Studies, and finally Citizenship, and Arthur had been uneasy and angry the entire time. He really didn't fancy turning around right now. 

"Arthur!" Merlin called again, and Arthur took three more strides before turning around.

"Yes?" he said flatly, as Merlin darted around a couple of younger students. 

"Listen, we got off to a bad start back there," Merlin said, and Arthur just looked at him. "I don't actually think you need help making friends or anything stupid like that, I was just—honestly, I was just trying to make small talk."

"Is that what that was."

Merlin grimaced. "Sorry. I can be pretty awkward sometimes. A lot of times, actually."

"Whatever," Arthur said, and checked his watch. The last class of the day had been cut short to allow for an all-school assembly, and Arthur didn't want to be late.

"I'm sorry about Gilli, too," Merlin continued. "He can be a little—he doesn't have the best track record with your sort, and he tends to lash out at people who remind him of those days." 

"My sort?" Arthur asked, incredulously.

Merlin's mouth flapped, for a moment, and his cheeks went pink. "C'mon, you know what I mean. The rich, beautiful athletes who rule the teenage jungle most everywhere else, making the rest of us miserable." 

"You lot here sure do love your stereotypes," Arthur snapped, as though he hadn't spent most of the day assessing his new classmates in exactly those terms. 

"We don't, actually," Merlin said, "we're just more honest about it." 

"Whatever." 

"C'mon—let's start again. I was a dick, you were a dick, let's just forget it and be friends." 

Arthur sneered. "And why would I want to do that?" 

"Because you're new, and that's hard. And I like friends." 

Arthur gritted his teeth against the churn of his stomach. "It may have been hard for you, Merlin, but I'm just fine. No need to trouble yourself." He turned and stormed down the corridor.

#

At three-thirty, Arthur slammed his way out of the front door and walked as fast as he could without running up the path from the school, turned left at the road and barrelled towards the spot where he'd left Leon that morning. He'd forgotten to text him, but it was just as well—the less people at this school knew about him, the better. Leon was there, and Arthur threw open the door to the backseat, climbed in, and slammed it closed.

Leon looked at him in the rear view. "All right?"

"Just drive," Arthur said. Leon turned in his seat to look at Arthur directly. "Please, Leon, just get me the hell out of here." 

Leon didn't move, for a moment, but then turned around and started the car. Arthur heaved a sigh. His first day was not supposed to go like this, not at all, and it was infuriating that one person—one idiot with his band of magical losers—could set everything so wrong so quickly. 

Scowling, Arthur pulled his phone out of his pocket to check Facebook or the news or his bloody horoscope if that's what it took—anything to distract him from the image of Merlin up on stage in assembly, accepting his award for whatever stupid magical tournament he'd won over the summer. Arthur didn't give a shit, of course, but all the hoots and hollers of the crowd when Merlin had appeared next to the Headmaster—exactly the sort of cheers he'd grown so used to hearing for himself when he took the podium during class assemblies—had left him feeling impossibly stupid.

He pounded the screen on his phone until his fingertips ached.

#

Arthur woke up the next morning to a dozen Google Alerts about an American university soccer match that had happened while he was sleeping, and the day only got worse from there. His second day at Camelot was an exercise in pride and tunnel vision, as he beelined from class to class, keeping his head up and his eyes forward, too focused on controlling his temper and ignoring Merlin to interact properly with anyone.

He kept one eye on the clock all day, willing it to tick faster, and the only thing that kept him sane was the promise of the football club trials at three-thirty. Surely, if there was one place in this godforsaken school where Arthur could fit in and earn a bit of respect, it was on the football pitch. 

The afternoon proved him wrong on both counts—and got off to an inauspicious start as he came out of the locker room in his football kit and was promptly almost run over by a pack of students on bicycles. 

"Oi!" he called out, jumping back. Only one of them, a girl Arthur recognised from his Spanish class, had the decency to call out an apology. 

Arthur tried not to glower as he made his way to the pitch, jogging and shaking his limbs to loosen up. There were several faces he recognised from classes there with him, including Freddy and Tom. Arthur nodded at them in greeting. Freddy nodded back. 

The coach arrived and got them started running drills immediately. Arthur found himself huffing and puffing too quickly—he'd known he should have done a lot more conditioning and a lot less moping over the summer holidays. It didn't look likely to matter, though, as he surveyed his potential teammates. Freddy obviously hadn't been joking about the club being complete crap the year before, because unless they'd had an entire first squad of upper sixth players who'd left, Arthur found it hard to believe that they'd managed to play an entire game, let alone win any. 

At five o'clock, the coach blew his whistle, said he'd see them on Thursday, and everyone on the pitch collected their things and headed for the locker rooms, without so much as a word. 

"Coach," Arthur asked, confused. "Sorry, I think I've missed something—do the trials continue on Thursday?"

"Sorry?" the coach asked. 

"The trials," Arthur said. "For making the team."

"Oh—uh, no. We don't really do that. Come to practice, and you're on the team."

Arthur faltered. "I—oh. Really?"

The coach nodded. "Fewer players than spots on the team, mate." He clapped Arthur on the shoulder with a huge hand. "Welcome to the club."

"Oh. OK. Thanks," Arthur said. He opened his mouth to ask something, but couldn't decide what his question was, exactly. "Thanks, Coach," he said, and trudged back to the locker room, feeling like he hadn't earned anything at all. When he got there, it was already empty.

#

The week crawled forward, each day largely the same. On Wednesday, Arthur stayed after school to attend the first meeting of the Community Service Volunteers. There were a number of new faces there, which was momentarily encouraging, as Arthur hadn't completely given up on the possibility of making friends. But then Merlin arrived, apparently also a member, and Arthur had no choice but to go back to scowling in the corner.

He could feel Merlin looking at him several times throughout the meeting, as the faculty coordinators spoke. At one point, near the end, Arthur faltered and looked back at him. Merlin blinked, and then gave Arthur a small, awkward smile. Arthur stared at him, his mind filled with the image of that huge, genuine grin in the canteen on the first day, and he had to look away, hoping his expression hadn't registered any change at all.

#

The last class of the day on Friday ended at impossibly long last, and Arthur was packing up his things when Merlin came to stand next to his desk. Arthur focused determinedly on buckling his bag.

"What?" he finally demanded, when Merlin hadn't moved. 

Merlin took a moment to answer. "If I told you that a few of us were getting together tonight, to see a film or something, what are the chances you'd be interested in joining us?"

"I can't," Arthur answered, without looking at him.

"Because you've got plans, or because you don't want to be friends with me?"

"Take your pick," Arthur said, still without looking at him. 

Merlin stood there for a moment, his mouth a pinched line. "'K," he finally said. "Have a good weekend, Arthur."

Arthur managed not to look at him until he'd turned away.

#

Arthur spent the weekend doing nothing at all—or at least, nothing that required him to leave the flat. He did all his homework, and then spent a great deal of time writing and rewriting his student council election speech, and rehearsing it in front of Leon. He tried not to indulge in fantasies of his fellow students hearing him speak and then falling over themselves to be his friend, apologising for ignoring him all week, but he mostly failed. They were really gratifying fantasies.

He talked Leon into a fairly epic battle on the PlayStation, which lasted until the blister on his thumb actually burst, and then he spent the rest of his time compulsively checking his email, blankly watching television, and staring at photos on the internet of the Georgetown soccer team.

#

Arthur hadn't heard anything about the student council elections yet, so on Monday he went to have another look at the sign-up sheet, to see if he'd missed something important. He frowned at the paper where it was pinned to the board, curling a bit at the edges—his was still the only name on the list. The Deputy Headmaster was listed as the faculty adviser, so Arthur went to her office at lunchtime.

"Oh," she said, blinking at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice that anyone had signed up. That sheet has been on the board for more than two years now, I'd forgotten about it."

"Oh," Arthur said. "So— _is_ there a student council, then?"

"Yes," she replied. "Well, sort of. There's only been one member for the last two years, and we haven't had an actual election in ages. But now that we've got some fresh interest, we can start holding proper meetings again, at least! I think they used to be held on Mondays, right after school. Does that work for you? Can you start today?"

"Um," Arthur said. "Sure. So we won't be giving speeches, then?"

"Speeches for what?"

"Never mind," Arthur said, his weekend fantasies shrivelling like leaky balloons. "Who's the other member, then? My name is the only one on the sheet."

"Merlin, of course," she said.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated, a beat later.

"Well, yes. Oh, I'm sorry—I forgot that you're new. Have you met Merlin yet? Merlin Emrys?"

"I've met him," Arthur said.

"Great," she replied. "I'm sure it will be wonderful working with him."

Arthur stared at her, and put a minimal amount of effort into turning his grimace into a smile. His fingers were numb as he texted Leon to let him know he'd be at school later than planned.

#

Merlin wasn't there when Arthur arrived in the classroom designated for the student council meeting. He sat down and opened his notebook, writing across the top of the page:

_Minutes of the First Meeting of the Camelot College 2012-2013 Student Council_  
 _Attendees: A. Pendragon, M. Emrys_

He kept an eye on the clock and eventually added: _Let the record show that M. Emrys is more than fifteen minutes late._ He tapped his biro against the desk and considered how many meeting absences should be allowed before a council member needed to be removed from their position.  


When the door finally burst open, Arthur fixed it with an unimpressed stare as Merlin came tripping in, his bag precariously slung over his bony shoulder and his arms full of books and loose papers. 

Merlin stopped short when he saw Arthur, eyes wide. And then he smiled—a real, wide smile, as if Merlin were actually happy to see him. Arthur looked away, his stomach tight.

"Hi," Merlin chirped, out of breath. "I did not expect it to be you. Should have, I suppose, because it had to be someone new, and none of the other new kids really seem the type." 

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, with as much disdain as he could muster. 

"Alice couldn't remember your name."

"Alice?" 

"Yeah, our faculty supervisor? She said you'd spoken with her." 

"Deputy Headmaster Cooper, you mean." 

Merlin nodded. "Yup!" 

Arthur drew a hard breath. "I can see how it would be difficult for her to remember my name, given that it was only one on the list."

"Yeah," Merlin said, laughing agreeably. Arthur felt his nostrils flare. Merlin deposited his pile of things onto a desk and continued cheerfully, "Sorry I'm late, she only just caught me on my way out."

Arthur stared at the disorganised mess Merlin had just dumped, and then looked at his watch pointedly. "Are you honestly the only person who's been representing the student body for the past few years? No wonder this place is so hopeless." 

"Oi," Merlin said, ruffling. "You could have bloody well said something about us meeting—we were only in class together for the entire afternoon." Arthur shrugged. He'd thought about mentioning the meeting to Merlin approximately seventeen times during their afternoon classes, but had chosen not to. "And this place is fucking great," Merlin continued, "if you'd stop glowering long enough to notice. Just because you're so bloody unhappy doesn't mean there's anything wrong with us."

"This place is a joke for anyone without magic, and no one cares," Arthur snapped. "The only thing anyone gives a shit about are your little magic tournaments or whatever—the football club is a depressing joke, and obviously your student government is the same."

Merlin sneered. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry that people here care about something a bit more important than fucking football. And maybe no one's rushing to join the student council because they're perfectly satisfied with how I represent them! You only just got here, what would you even know about it?" 

"Look, at my last school in the States, I was class president for two years, and believe me, silence from the people does _not_ mean that they are satisfied—" 

"Oh, _great_. I'm so glad that your school in America taught you everything you need to know about how everything everywhere in the world works, but guess what? You don't know shit. You came waltzing in here, expecting to be king of the fucking castle with your shiny hair and your practised smile and your muscley... muscles, and now all you can do is pout because no one gives a shit." 

"Funny, you said that was Gilli just lashing out the other day? Well you sound just like him." 

"And you sound just like every self-involved posh idiot I've ever met. That's why you're not making any friends here, you know." 

"Fuck you, I am making friends just fucking fine." 

Merlin glared at him, but something that looked like regret flashed across his face, and anger flared even more hotly in Arthur's gut. 

"You know what—fuck this," Arthur said, throwing his meeting notes into his bag. "Find someone else to look down your nose at." 

He crashed out of the room and down the hall, nearly dropping his phone on the checkered floor as he fumbled it out of his pocket. "You close?" he asked when Leon answered. He was already outside, marching down the path to the road. 

"Parked in the usual place," Leon said. "Should I come down?" 

"No, I'll be there in a minute." It took him less than that.

#

"He's just such a bloody pretentious—self-righteous—hypocritical—" Arthur stabbed at the greens on his plate "— _idiot_. He accuses me of being arrogant, but he clearly has a higher opinion of himself than anyone I have ever met." He shoved his fork into his mouth. "And I've met some bloody arrogant people," he continued, around his mouthful. "I mean, just because he's, like, the Mr Universe of teenage sorcery or whatever, and all his little magical minions kiss his bony ass all day, that doesn't mean he gets to sit around pitying me. Me! I mean honestly, what the fuck?"

A small spray of chewed greens landed on the table in front of him, undermining his point. "Sorry," he muttered, and wiped up the mess with his napkin.

Leon chewed his food evenly. "Are you really going to quit the student council?" 

"I can't work with him." 

"What else are you going to do, then? There's a lot of hours in the week that need filling." 

"I dunno. Saw a sign for theatre auditions next week. Maybe I'll try out for the play." 

"Really?" 

"No, of course not really. But I've got football, isn't that enough?" 

"Is it?" 

"Isn't it? Maybe I don't need to be scheduled to the gills again this year. Different school, different country, different life. Just because I was class president at Andersen, doesn't mean I have to be on the council here. It made sense there, they needed me, there were things I could do. They clearly don't need me here—they've already got bloody Saint Merlin—so why shouldn't I just leave them to it?" 

Leon chewed for a silent minute before answering. "Do you think it was really only them who needed you?"

"What?"

"You loved being class president, Arthur. Always seemed to me it was more important to you than anything else you had going on—football, your marks, most of your friends." Arthur looked down, his cheeks heating."Seems to me," Leon continued, "that it wouldn't be doing yourself a favour to walk away from the chance to have that again, just because you've had a clash with this bloke."

Arthur chewed unhappily and didn't answer. 

It was a minute before Leon continued quietly, "What happened in the spring was complete shit, and I wouldn't blame you if you're not feeling up to making new friends, after all that."

Arthur clenched his jaw. "Who says I'm not?" 

Leon shrugged. "No one. But you've been nothing but angry since your first day at Camelot, and I'm not sure that's helping anything."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "With a chauffeur like you, Leon, who needs friends?" 

Leon just smiled. 

"You're very annoying out of uniform, you know."

"Maybe you should stop talking to me after seven," Leon said.

"Maybe I should. Maybe I will." Arthur glared at him, and then snorted. "God, then I really will have to make a friend, won't I?'

"Look on the bright side—maybe you'll find someone you can actually beat on the PlayStation."

"Shut it, I was having an off day."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night, Arthur."

Arthur threw a piece of broccoli at him.

#

The next day, Arthur brought a packed lunch to avoid the possibility of a public encounter in the canteen. He was the first one in the Financial Studies classroom, and he sat in his usual seat with one eye on the door, trying not to fidget as a handful of students who were not Merlin came in.

When Merlin finally did appear, he was alone, and Arthur deliberately made eye contact with him. Merlin stared at him, his face pinched. Arthur nodded a greeting, and felt both relieved and apprehensive when Merlin came and sat next to him like usual. 

"Listen," Arthur said, almost immediately, hoping that ripping the plaster clean off was the best choice, "I said some things yesterday that were out of order, and I'm sorry for that. I don't really know how things here work yet, so. I shouldn't've been so... quick to insist on my opinion."

Merlin opened his mouth, and closed it, and it was a struggle for Arthur to hold his gaze."You're allowed an opinion," Merlin finally said, "new or not." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I shouldn't have said half those things, either."

Arthur shrugged. Neither of them said anything for a bit, as the last few students wandered into the classroom. "Could we, um," Arthur began. "Do you think we could meet again? I'd like to—if you think you can work with me, I really would like to serve on the student council." 

Merlin smiled at him. "You free tonight?"

Arthur did his best not to smile back, and largely failed. But he shook his head. "Football. Tomorrow, after community service?"

Merlin shook his head. "Mum works late Wednesdays, so it's my night to make dinner. What time's football done tonight?"

"Five."

"I'll be in the library for a while after school—I have a research project that needs starting. I might still be here at five. Here," Merlin said, writing something on the corner of his notebook paper. He tore it off and handed it to Arthur. "Text me when you're done, and if I'm still here we can just do it then, if that works?"

Arthur looked at the string of numbers on the paper in his hand. "Yeah, that'll work," he said. "If you're still here."

Merlin grinned at him as the classroom door opened and the teacher walked in.

Arthur shoved Merlin's mobile number into his pocket, where it burned steadily against his thigh for the duration of the afternoon.

#

In the locker room after practice, Arthur pulled out his phone. He had a text from Leon, in reply to Arthur's warning that he might be staying later for their meeting: _Not a problem. At your service, of course. Will try not to get too lonely._

"Prat," Arthur muttered, before rummaging in his locker for his trousers and pulling Merlin's paper out of the pocket. He typed the number carefully, then deleted it in favour of typing his text first, in case he accidentally hit Send too soon. 

_This is Arthur. Football is done. R u still here._ He retyped Merlin's number into the Recipient box and hit Send.

He had one foot back in his trousers and nearly overbalanced when his phone chirped.

_Shit, forgot to silence phone, librarian properly hacked off. Yes, still here. See you in 5?_

Arthur finished pulling on his trousers. _U should b banned from lib. Where do u want to meet._

 _You in the lockers still? Wanna meet halfway, this side of the football pitch?_

_Ok_

The pitch was abandoned as Arthur crossed back over it. The school was still and quiet, the only discernible sign of life the three cars still in the car park until Merlin emerged out of the large front door of the library. The early evening sun was painting everything gold, and there was an unwelcome pull in Arthur's chest as he watched Merlin bound down the path, wave at him, and sit on a nearby bench. 

Arthur looked down at the ground and kept waking steadily in Merlin's direction, despite his urge to flee.

"How was practice?" Merlin asked. 

"All right," Arthur said, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and sitting as far away from him on the bench as he could.

"OK if we just have our meeting here?"

Arthur nodded. "Sure." He opened his bag and retrieved the same notebook he had started to use on Monday. He clicked his biro and edited the existing notes to reflect the current date. He paused for a moment before crossing out his snooty line about Merlin being late. He glanced over at Merlin, who was very obviously reading the notes with raised eyebrows. "I really should leave it in there," Arthur said. "It's important to have an accurate record of what transpired." 

"I'm sure we won't have to wait long for another shining example of you being an arse to take its place."

"Shut up," Arthur said. "OK, what's our first order of business?" 

Merlin smiled bemusedly. "Should we just chat a bit first? I think we should get to know each other, if we're going to be working together."

"What? Why?"

"I think it's important we understand one another."

Arthur just frowned. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Tell me your story. Why are you here? Why'd you leave your old school with only one year left?"

Arthur's heart somersaulted in his chest, and he kept his attention on his notebook for a moment, blindly making a nonsensical edit. He had been prepared for this question on the first day, he'd rehearsed his answer before falling asleep night after night in the week before school started, but no one had asked, and now he felt unprepared. 

"My father," he answered, without looking up.

"His job? He get transfered?"

Arthur swallowed. "No. He stayed behind, actually."

"In America?"

"Yeah."

"You here with your mum, then?"

Arthur shook his head. "My chau—" he stopped. Somehow he suspected that Merlin would not react well to Arthur having a chauffeur. "A friend of the family."

"Someone you like?"

Arthur nodded.

"That's not too bad, then." 

"Yeah, not too bad. Pretty all right, actually. He's called Leon. He's not that much older. We get on quite well."

"You live with him at his flat?"

"No, one of my father's—he owns quite a lot of rental property over here still."

Merlin nodded. "So your friend—Leon? Leon—he keeps an eye on you in exchange for room and board?" 

"More or less," Arthur hedged. He didn't want to admit that his only friend was actually a full-time employee of his father. 

"Were you fighting with him a lot, then? Your father?"

Arthur nodded. "We weren't seeing eye-to-eye on a few things, and then—" he paused "—it got worse. His wife can't stand the sight of me, so I don't think he had much motivation to reconcile with me." He shrugged.

"That's pretty shit," Merlin said. 

Arthur shrugged again, and fiddled with his biro. He desperately wanted to change the subject to official student council business, but it felt too impolite not to ask, "And what about you? You live with your mum, you said?" 

Merlin nodded. "Yup. Always just been the two of us. We get along great, which is lucky."

"Has she got magic too?"

"Not a stitch. Came from my dad, according to her. I wouldn't know, I never met him."

"Sorry."

Merlin shrugged. "Me too, sometimes. Other times, I don't care."

Arthur nodded. "My mum died when I was born," he said without thinking, and then felt his cheeks heat with surprise. 

Merlin stared at him a moment. "I'm so sorry, Arthur," he said gently, and Arthur suddenly felt very annoyed. 

"It's fine, don't worry. Look, it's getting late, and I have a beast of an economics assignment due tomorrow, so do you mind if we leave this off and focus on council business?"

Merlin blinked a couple of times before averting his gaze. "Yeah. Of course, yeah. What do you want to talk about?"

Arthur mostly managed not to roll his eyes. "What are your routine business items? Does the council do any regular fundraisers, or put on school parties or anything?"

"No, nothing like that, really."

"So what do you do?"

Merlin shrugged. "Fix problems, mostly. When I can. Things I notice or other kids ask me about, I'll go talk to the headmaster or Alice or whoever. It's pretty informal. My only official role is peer mediator, and student representative on the disciplinary committee. But I don't do that stuff too often—only if there's something super out of the ordinary going on."

Arthur nodded. He was curious to know more about that piece of things, but he'd had enough of student disciplinary committees in the past year to last him a lifetime, so he decided to let it lie for now. "So do you have any outstanding projects you're working on from last term?"

Merlin nodded. "I started a campaign to get vegan food in the canteen last spring, but didn't get very far before term ended. And we're in sore need of more bicycle stands along the front entrance."

"I've noticed that," Arthur said. "Nearly cracked my head a couple of times, tripping over the mess of bicycles along the path."

Merlin chuckled. "I know, it's a disaster. Once the spaces are used up, everyone else just locks their bike to another bike, and it's a logistical nightmare, getting everything unlocked again at the end of the day. I also want to ask about getting the stands covered, to keep our bikes out of the rain. A fair few of us are getting a real rust problem."

"Do you ride your bike every day?"

Merlin nodded. "Rain or shine. I could just walk, really, it's not that far, but it's faster on the bike, and easier on my shoulders to strap my books to the back."

"All right," Arthur said, nodding. "I agree that we should work on the bike stand issue. Do you think the school's got the budget for it, or will we need to do a fundraiser?"

Merlin's brows went up. "Dunno. I doubt the school's gonna be thrilled about spending the money, but I've never really done a fundraiser, so—I dunno."

"I have some experience with them, so that shouldn't be a problem. It's usually worth it—even if we don't raise a lot of money, it can be a good way to gauge the student body's investment in an issue."

"All right," Merlin said, shrugging. "What should we do?"

"Any of the usual things would be good: a bake sale, a raffle, whatever. We'll probably want to do some sort of awareness or educational event—like a fair, maybe. We could invite everyone to ride their bikes to school one day, and then after classes we could bring someone in to do tune-ups and things, for donations. We could sell refreshments, too, with all the proceeds going towards the project."

"And we could have races in the car park!" Merlin said, grinning. "Or something. Yeah, I like that."

Arthur smiled. "All right." He turned to his meeting notes. _Resolved:_ , he wrote. _Begin Bicycle Stand Expansion and Improvement Project. Possibly organise a bike fair as a fundraising/awareness event. Action Items: Brainstorm ideas for fair, and other fundraisers. Research bike stand shelters, other options._

When he looked up, Merlin was grinning at him. "You take this really seriously, huh?" Merlin asked. 

"I just want us to be organised," Arthur said shortly. "Very little gets done, when you're not."

"S'ppose not," Merlin said, and continued smiling at him. His attention suddenly turned to his trouser pocket, and Arthur could hear the faint buzzing of a mobile. "Shit," Merlin muttered to the screen on his phone. "Mum's looking for me. Mind if we adjourn, and talk about the vegans next week?"

"The vegans?" Arthur replied. "Oh, right—the canteen, got it. Sounds good." 

"Great," Merlin said and stood up. He took a couple of steps and stopped. "I'm glad you talked to me today," he said quickly. "And I'm really glad we're doing this. Thanks."

Arthur paused in the middle of his note about vegans and looked up. Merlin was looking at him very earnestly, and Arthur felt his throat start to close up. "Not a problem," he managed, with an awkward nod. Merlin nodded too, and stood still for another moment before finally leaving. 

Arthur could hear Merlin unlocking his bike from the stand several yards behind the bench. He shoved his notebook into his bag and got up quickly, striding purposefully down the path towards the road.

He was about halfway there when Merlin scurried up alongside him, walking his bike. Arthur went a bit stiff.

"Which way are you headed?" Merlin asked.

"To the left, at the road," he answered.

"Me too!" Merlin grinned.

"You don't need to walk with me," Arthur muttered, after a moment. "Feel free to actually ride that thing."

Merlin shrugged. "Are you going to the bus stop? That's not far, I'll walk with you. Do you take the 12 or the 27?"

"No, um." Arthur scowled. "I'm meeting Leon, actually. He drives me. But he doesn't like to come all the way down to the school, so he parks up the road a bit and waits for me."

"Really?" Merlin asked, grinning. "You sure it's not you who tells him to park far enough away that no one can see him?"

"It's just more convenient," Arthur said. "He drives down Stratton Road anyway. This way he doesn't have to turn or anything. He can just pull over." It sounded fairly ludicrous to Arthur's own ears, so he couldn't really blame Merlin for the perplexed look he gave him.

"I'm surprised you don't have your own car, come to think of it," Merlin said. "You seem the type. And there's plenty of space in the student parking area."

"I don't have a licence," Arthur said, impatiently. 

"Ah," Merlin said, and he probably meant it perfectly innocuously, but something in Arthur flared hotly.

"I used to," he snapped. "Back in the States, but. It's complicated—I can't drive here."

"I don't have a licence either," Merlin replied, shrugging. "I'm in the after-school class for it on Thursdays, so I suppose I might get one at the end of term, but I won't have a car to drive, so it won't matter."

"Mm," Arthur grunted in response. 

"Kilgharrah here's the only wheels I'll be able to afford for some time, I'm sure." 

"Kilgharrah?"

"My bike," Merlin said, grinning.

They had reached the road, and Arthur turned left with a sigh, his eyes trained straight ahead. "You're an idiot," he said, and Merlin huffed a small laugh. 

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, Kilgharrah's chain clicking steadily. 

"I like your jacket, by the way," Merlin said, sounding exactly like he'd been fishing for some new small talk to make. 

"Thanks," Arthur said.

"Are the whole club going to get them, with their own letters?"

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The football club. That is your football jacket, isn't it?"

Arthur stared at him, and nearly tripped on an uneven patch of pavement. "From last year. From my old school."

"Oh," Merlin said. "Oops. Guess I don't really know what ours look like. Or if we even have them, come to think."

"This school's called Camelot, Merlin. With a 'C'. What did you think the 'A' stood for, exactly?"

Merlin shrugged. "Arthur?"

Arthur sputtered. "You are such an idiot."

"Arthur the Arse? Arthur the Arrogant Arse from America? All very plausible." Merlin shot Arthur a sideways grin. "You can understand my mistake, surely."

"Whatever, Merlin, you're a moron. Merlin the Moron. From—Moron—ville."

Merlin threw back his head and laughed. "You're pathetic!"

"Shut up," Arthur grumbled. "Why don't you just get on your bike and go home already?"

"Nah, I like walking with you."

"That's Leon's car, right up there. You should really just go."

Merlin squinted at the car parked a little ways ahead of them. Leon was sitting in the driver's seat, and appeared to be reading a book. "Is he wearing a uniform?" Merlin asked. "Like, with a cap and everything?"

Arthur silently swore to himself, and didn't say anything. 

"Wait—does Leon give you friendly lifts to and from school, or is he your driver? Like, your chauffeur?"

"I told you, I can't drive anywhere," Arthur snapped.

"Neither can I, but no one shows up in a driving cap and gloves to escort me home."

"He's not wearing _gloves_ ," Arthur retorted, and he hoped that was true. He wasn't actually sure. "Technically, yes, he's my driver, but it's honestly pretty informal. I don't know why he insists on wearing the uniform, it's all very silly."

"I suppose he takes his job very seriously," Merlin said, grinning and knocking Arthur with his elbow. "I can think of someone else like that."

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur said crossly, and tried to ignore the way the hair on his arm stood up where Merlin had touched him. 

[](http://curtain-green.livejournal.com/6640.html)

Leon had looked up and was watching them approach, and Arthur couldn't help wondering what they looked like, walking together. Merlin waved at Leon, grinning, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Leon raised a hand in return, and thankfully he did indeed appear to not be wearing gloves. He had an amused expression on his face as Merlin walked his bike around to the driver's side, gesturing for Leon to roll down his window.

"Hi, I'm Merlin," he said, grinning and extending his hand. "You must be Leon."

"Nice to meet you, Merlin." Leon shook his hand.

"I like your hat."

"Thank you. I like your bike."

"Thanks! He's called Kilgharrah."

"A very noble name."

"I agree," Merlin said, beaming. Arthur rolled his eyes again and pulled open the car door. He was about to climb in when he realised the getting into the back seat would leave very little room to claim that Leon wasn't actually his quite formal chauffeur, so Arthur tossed his bag inside and closed the door without getting in. He had to pick up a few of Leon's things—a book, a map, his mobile—and hold them in his lap before he could sit in the front seat, but he did his best to look like all of this was completely normal. Leon just watched him, not saying anything.

"I think we need to be going," Arthur snapped, against the awkward silence. "Merlin, didn't you say your mother was looking for you?"

Merlin grinned. "Yeah. See you tomorrow, Arthur."

"Bye," Arthur said, and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket for something to look at while Merlin climbed on his bike and rode away.

Leon rolled up his window. Arthur continued to fiddle with his phone for nearly a minute before he looked up. "Why aren't we moving?"

"I wasn't sure if you wanted to stay in the front seat, or if all of that was solely for Merlin's benefit."

Arthur scowled, and his face went hot. "Just drive," he said, and eventually, Leon did.

#

"Hi, excuse me," Arthur said, hurrying up alongside a girl as they left Spanish class. "Lisa, right?"

"Yes?" she answered, a little apprehensively.

"I'm Arthur, the bloke you and your bicycle pack nearly ran over last week outside of the locker rooms."

"Oh, right," she said. "Sorry about that."

"I survived," he said, shrugging. "You and your friends like cycling?"

"Those weren't my—that was the club, we ride together on Tuesdays."

"The club?"

"The cycling club." She waved distractedly at a girl down the corridor, who was frowning at the pair of them. 

"Oh, that's great," Arthur said. "Maybe you lot can help us, then—the student council is planning a bike fair and fundraiser to pay for new bike stands along the front of the school. Would you be interested in being a part of it?"

She looked at him properly for the first time. "A what? Are you serious?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" 

They frowned at each other for a moment. "All right," she said. "Tell me what you're doing." She called out to her confused friend that she'd catch her up later.

As the morning break ended and Arthur jotted down the last of their ideas, Lisa shook her head. "I still don't really believe the student council cares about this."

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Well not you, necessarily, I meant—" she stopped. 

"Merlin's quite the bicycle enthusiast," Arthur said. "I'm surprised he's not in your club, actually." She snorted, and Arthur raised his eyebrows in question. 

"You serious?" she asked, after a moment. "A magic student wouldn't be caught dead in one of our clubs."

Arthur frowned. "But—" he said, and stopped. Now that he thought about it, he was fairly sure that all of the kids in the football club were non-magic as well. "But Merlin and his friends are in the community service club on Wednesdays," he said. 

She shrugged. "Well sure, that's different."

"Than?"

"The sport clubs."

"None of the magic kids do a sport?"

Lisa shook her head. "And the likes of you and me better not get too excited about them."

Arthur opened his mouth, and closed it. "I—what?"

"Oh you know how it is—social suicide," Lisa said, standing and throwing her bag over her shoulder. "Sorry, I've got to go—I can't be late to biology again."

Arthur stared after her for a moment before gathering his own things.

#

_Cycling club will help w fair_ , he texted on his way to class. _Will offer flat tire tutorials and similar_

_We have a cycling club?_

Arthur rolled his eyes. _Ya but no magic kids so of course u dont give a shit_

_Untwist your bollocks, I just didn't know about it. Maintenance tutorials are a really good idea._

_Also want 2 do marathon ride 4 donations per mile or whatever_

_Nice! We can call it the Tour de Camelot._

_Yeah or we can call it something not completely dumb_

_Prat. I'll talk to Alice about making an announcement during the next assembly._

#

"Oi," someone called to Arthur a few days later, as he made his way to his Economics class, "you're Merlin's friend, right? The one doing that bike thing with him?"

Arthur stopped, bristling. "He and I are both members of the student council, yes," he replied. "I'm Arthur."

"Great, listen, if you see Merlin, can you tell him the headmaster is looking for him? Something for his independent magic project, I think."

Arthur didn't bother responding, and when he saw Merlin in class a few hours later, he very pointedly did not pass on the message, instead passing the last few minutes before class fiddling his with phone.

#

_Hey Arthur, I need to reschedule tomorrow's meeting - Mum's got me a dentist appt right after school._

_Been rotting ur teeth again? How about tues after practice like b4?_

_Arthur, you have an iPhone with a qwerty keyboard. Abbreviating with numbers makes no sense._

_U think ur so smart_

_Fine, be an idiot. I can't do Tuesdays anymore. Got a thing after school now._

_Ok. When then?_

_Do you want come to my house on weds after community service? We could talk while I make dinner._

Arthur typed _Yes_ and deleted it. He typed _I cant_ and deleted it. He typed _Yes_ a second time, and deleted it. Fifteen minutes later, he finally hit send:

_Ok_

#

Arthur sat at the table in Merlin's kitchen, his notebook and a glass of water in front of him. "What are you making?" he asked.

"Spicy potato curry," Merlin replied, pulling a large tin of tomatoes and some spices from the cupboard. "Mum's favourite."

"That's a bit less scary than I was expecting."

Merlin looked at him, amused. "What were you expecting?"

"I dunno, but all your vegan talk had me very apprehensive."

Merlin chuckled. "It's a lot less complicated than you'd think."

"Don't you miss animal products?" 

"Well, Mum's the vegan, so you'd have to ask her," Merlin said, grinning. "I'm just a vegetarian."

"OK," Arthur said, as if he understood at all. "Are many of your friends vegan, then? Is that why you want to get it in the canteen?"

"Just one, Freya. And I don't know how committed she is to it, to be honest, but I want to be supportive. And I think it's good for everyone to be exposed to it and have the chance to try it, if they want."

"All right," Arthur said. He took a sip of water, and watched Merlin begin chopping an onion. "So, should we call this meeting to order?"

"Absolutely."

"All right. Old business: the Bike Stand Expansion and Improvement Project fundraiser, aka, the bike fair."

"The Tour de Camelot is well underway in the planning," Merlin said, happily.

"Oh, are we actually calling it that?"

"We are! The cycling club loves the name."

Arthur snorted. "Yeah, sure they do."

"They do! They've already set up a fundraising website with the name, too."

"What? How do you know that? You didn't know there _was_ a cycling club a few days ago."

Merlin scraped his onions into the frying pan, and didn't look at Arthur. "I didn't," he said. "But now I do. And I've joined it." 

"You what?"

"I joined the cycling club last week. That's why I can't meet on Tuesdays anymore—that's when we have meetings and go for group rides."

Arthur stared at him. "You're not serious."

"I am! And why shouldn't I be? You know I like to ride."

"But there aren't any magic kids in that club."

"And now there is one, so what?"

"I was told sport clubs were social suicide for your lot."

Merlin shrugged, and Arthur's phone dinged with a new email. It was a Google Alert. He'd forgotten that the team had an early afternoon match today.

"All right," Arthur said quickly, turning back to his notes. "I'll let you have 'Tour de Camelot', if you're so set on it." Merlin grinned. 

They talked about plans for the fair for some time, and then, without Arthur quite noticing, the subject turned to their Literature assignment, their Literature teacher, and then to the latest series of Doctor Who as Merlin puttered industriously about the kitchen. 

Arthur was startled by how late it had become when Merlin's mother walked in. "Hello," she said, smiling at him. "You must be Arthur."

"Hello, Mrs Emrys," Arthur said. "You have a lovely home."

"Thank you, Arthur." She chuckled. "Please call me Hunith. Have you two got lots of important student council business accomplished tonight?"

"I think we have," Arthur said. 

"Yeah, definitely!" Merlin chimed in. "And dinner's almost ready, so I hope you're hungry."

"Smells delicious, and you know I am," she answered. 

Arthur was already reaching for his phone when it dinged with another new email. 

"Someone sure is popular tonight," Merlin said, smirking. "That thing's been dinging non-stop."

"Yeah, there's, um," Arthur said, feeling his cheeks heat. "A mate of mine from my last school is at university now, and he plays for their football team. They've got a match on right now, and I've got it set so I get alerts whenever he does something newsworthy." 

"Well isn't that slick?" Hunith said, shaking her head. "What will they think of next?"

"What university does he play for?" Merlin asked. 

"Um, Georgetown University? It's in Washington, DC."

"Is that where you lived?" Hunith asked. 

Arthur shook his head. "No, we were in a state called Minnesota. It's kind of in the middle, right at the top. Anyway, I was just about to text my ride to come pick me up, so I'll be out of your way in a few minutes, and you can enjoy your dinner."

"Oh, no, you must stay!" Hunith said. "Eat with us."

Arthur shook his head. "Thank you, Hunith, very much, but. He can be here really quickly, honestly."

"He's invited as well! I want to meet Leon. There's enough, isn't there, Merlin?"

"There's loads!" Merlin chirped. "And Arthur was just telling me how much he'd like to try vegan food, weren't you, Arthur?"

Arthur stared at them both. "Um," he said.

The curry was delicious, and, Arthur and Leon agreed to their mutual surprise on the ride home, completely satisfying.

#

"Do you think it's too soon to make the biscuits today if we're only selling them on Friday?" Arthur asked, on a Sunday, after Merlin rode his bicycle to Arthur's flat. The bike fair planning was mostly finished—the cycling club was taking care of the maintenance tutorials and offered tune-ups, as well as fundraising for the Tour de Camelot, which left Arthur and Merlin with only the raffle and bake sale.

"I think they'll be fine," Merlin said, shrugging. "We'll just make sure to wrap them really tightly." Which sounded reasonable enough, so they made several dozen, using supplies Leon had purchased for them the day before.

After they'd slotted in as many as could fit into the oven, Merlin went to the loo and Arthur half-heartedly began rinsing the mountain of dirty dishes they'd managed to accumulate. Merlin was gone a long time, and eventually Arthur abandoned the dishes and went looking for him. He found him in his bedroom, eyeing two of his larger football trophies with interest. 

"Sorry," Merlin said, colouring. "Is this OK? I was just walking by, and—"

"S'fine," Arthur said, too quickly. 

"These are so big," Merlin said, snickering a little as he looked back at the trophies.

Arthur shrugged. "State championships are a pretty big deal."

Merlin leaned in to read the inscriptions on each of them. "I always forget they call it 'soccer'. It's weird, isn't it? They've just got this whole different word for it."

"Yeah. Was dead confusing at first. But you get used to it." 

"Did you like it there?" 

"It was all right, yeah," Arthur said.

"Better or worse than here?"

Arthur shrugged. "I dunno. Different."

"I've heard of that state, Minnesota, but I don't know anything about it. How'd your dad pick it?"

"It's where his wife's from."

"How'd they meet?"

"We were abroad in the same place. My dad and I lived in the Philippines for a year when I was thirteen. The bank he works for was opening a branch there, and he was tasked with getting it started. Catrina—that's his wife—her family owns this huge multinational manufacturing corporation, and she was there for a few months for something to do with that."

"Sounds romantic," Merlin said, deadpan.

Arthur snorted. "I guess, I dunno. I was thirteen and definitely not paying attention to my father's love life. When they decided to get married, she was back in the States and didn't want to move away from her family again. My father and I don't have any family besides each other, so it made sense for us to move instead of her."

"You went straight from the Philippines?"

"No, we were back in England for a couple of years first. That's when Leon came to live with us, since my father was gone so much more than usual, what with maintaining his transatlantic relationship."

Merlin grinned. "And he's been following you around ever since?"

"Basically. He was more my father's driver than mine in Minnesota—I had my own car, at that point—but we still spent a lot of time together." 

Merlin slid a heavy piece of paper out from underneath one of the trophies. Arthur had to crane his neck to see what it was, and when he recognised it, all the air in the room seemed to suddenly disappear. 

"Was this your team, then?" Merlin asked, chuckling. "I see they've all got that jacket." 

Arthur nodded and tried to laugh. It was a photo taken right after they'd won their second state championship. 

"They good blokes?"

"Yeah." 

"Which one's the rock star you get all those emails about?" Merlin asked. 

"Um," Arthur said, and he didn't want to point at the picture, because his hands were sweating and his finger would probably shake. "The one right next to me, there."

"With his arm around you?"

"Yeah."

"What's his name?"

"Chris Valiant," Arthur said. "We all called him Val."

"Looks like your best mate." Arthur didn't answer. 

Merlin studied the photo. "There is a proper crowd there behind you. Bit different to Camelot, eh?" 

Arthur's snort was drowned out by the smoke alarm coming to life in the kitchen. He was pathetically happy for the interruption, even though it meant their unattended biscuits had met with a very undignified end. 

"I thought you knew what you were doing!" Arthur barked, as they opened the windows to air the place out and began scraping the charred remains of the biscuits off the baking trays. 

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I watched you cook food that was completely edible just a few days ago?"

"That was different. I've made that a thousand times and my mum showed me how in the first place. And everyone knows baking sweets is totally different to cooking proper food."

"You are well full of excuses now, aren't you?"

"Oh, stuff it." 

They sighed in unison and looked around the kitchen warily. 

"Leon might actually kill me," Arthur said. "We better get this cleaned up."

Merlin grinned at him, and for a moment Arthur thought he was about to do something perfectly awful, like run out the door and hop on his bike, leaving Arthur to deal with it himself. But instead, he looked back at the mess and began speaking a strange, nonsensical series of syllables. Arthur frowned, and Merlin's eyes flashed with gold, and for the second time in fewer than fifteen minutes, all the air was sucked right out of the room. 

"I'm not really supposed to use it like this," Merlin said, a minute later. "Mum has rules about me doing my chores the 'old-fashioned way,' but we're not in her kitchen right now, are we?" 

"No," Arthur agreed weakly, taking in the perfectly clean kitchen in front of them. 

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, sounding a bit wary. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, everything's great," Arthur said, reflexively. "Sorry, that was just—the first time I've actually seen magic close up. I'm—just give me a minute." Merlin nodded, and there was awkward silence until, unexpectedly, Arthur began laughing. 

"It's pretty brilliant, isn't it?" Merlin said, beaming at him with a wide, goofy smile, and Arthur had no choice but to agree.

#

That night, after Leon had driven Merlin home with Kilgharrah carefully lodged in the back seat, Arthur lay in bed for a long time, staring sleeplessly at the ceiling, trying not to think about magic or wide, goofy smiles or Merlin in his bedroom.

His heart pounded, and he turned onto his stomach angrily, burying his face in his pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, pleading for sleep.

#

Monday afternoon was sunny and beautiful at the end of their last class, and Merlin suggested they have their student council meeting outside again. "Like we did that first time," he said. "It's really nice out, and who knows how many more days like this we'll have."

"Yeah, sure," Arthur replied, without really thinking about it. 

Once they got outside, he regretted it. They sat down on the same bench they had used that first Tuesday, but this time Arthur didn't have football practice first, so there were still loads of students milling about around them. 

"Should we go somewhere a little less crowded?" he asked, but Merlin was busy calling out a hello to a group of passing magic students. 

"Sorry, what?" Merlin asked, a minute later.

"Nothing," Arthur said, trying not to roll his eyes. "Let's just get started, shall we?"

"Yeah, OK," Merlin said, but they only got as far as confirming the hours of the bike fair on Friday before there was another interruption, a pair of girls who stopped to say hello to Merlin. They were both magic students, but Arthur recognised one of them from his Literature class. She didn't seem to recognise him—or even to see him at all, really. He sat awkwardly while Merlin asked them about their weekend. 

One of them finally threw Arthur an vaguely interested glace. "So who's your little friend, Merlin?" she asked, and something in Arthur snapped. 

"I'm gonna go," he said, already on his feet. The girls just looked at him, and Merlin gave him a startled, blinking stare. 

"What?" Merlin said.

"Maybe we can do this later," Arthur replied, and he was already striding away. Merlin might have called after him, but Arthur couldn't hear him over the buzzing in his ears.

He reached the locker room before he realised that was where he was going, and five minutes later he was back outside, running laps around the empty football pitch. He ran sprints first, until his lungs were burning, and then slowed to an endurance pace. He ran and ran and ran as the sun sank in the sky, and it wasn't nearly enough.

#

The school grounds were deserted by the time Arthur left them. He stared at the ground as he walked, so he didn't see Merlin until he was right there, halfway between the school and Leon's car, sitting in the grass with his bike lying next to him.

Arthur stopped in surprise, and they stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

"What the fuck, Arthur?" Merlin finally said. 

Arthur clenched his jaw and started walking again.

"No," Merlin snapped, and he was on his feet, blocking Arthur's path. "You do not get to just walk away again. What the fuck happened back there?"

"I'm sorry, Merlin, I just got sick having my time wasted while you mucked about with your fans during our meeting."

"I was talking to them for like two seconds!"

"Well I've got better things to do than to just sit there next to you, looking like yet another one of your pathetic friends."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't worry about it—I'm not actually your friend, so it doesn't matter."

"Not my friend? Arthur, what the fuck—of course you're my friend."

"When have I ever shown interest in being your friend, Merlin?"

Merlin sputtered. "When you had dinner at my house with me and my mother? When I came over to yours to bake fucking biscuits yesterday?"

"Both of those events were council related. We tolerate each other so we can get work done, that's all."

"That is complete bullshit, Arthur, and you know it."

"Why are you so concerned with being my friend?" Arthur barked. "You said people at this school were honest, so let's be honest—at _any_ other school, anywhere else in the world, someone like you and someone like me—" 

"Could never be friends?" Merlin snapped. "Because that's so ridiculous, and impossible?"

Arthur faltered under Merlin's angry stare. "Not impossible, maybe. But highly unlikely." 

"And why is that? Because you would bully someone like me, anywhere else?" 

Arthur started to say no, reflexively, but stopped himself. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe not. But I'd have friends who would, and I probably wouldn't work very hard to stop them." 

"Did you want to bully me, when you saw me on the first day? Was that your instinct?" 

"No," Arthur said, honestly. 

"But you didn't want anything to do with me."

Arthur heaved an angry breath and wished Merlin would stop looking at him. "Not right away, no."

"You couldn't risk talking to me in case I wasn't popular enough?"

Arthur didn't say anything, which seemed like answer enough.

"So why did you still not want to be my friend, once you saw I was more popular than you thought?"

"We'd already had it out, hadn't we? You said yourself, we got off to a pretty bad start."

"And I chased after you, waving the white flag on that very first day. You refused."

"I may want to be popular, Merlin, but I've got enough self-respect not to throw myself at your feet just to make friends by association. Look, I get that this place is different, OK? I get that my sort are never going to be king of the hill around here, but I've been on the other side of this. I've been the popular kid trying to befriend the less fortunate, and I'm not interested, OK? I don't want your charity."

Merlin barked an exasperated laugh, and looked off down the road, like he couldn't believe any of this. "Did you really?" he asked, after what felt like several minutes.

"Did I what?"

"Try to befriend the unpopular kids, at your last school?"

"Yeah, I did," Arthur said, a bit too plaintively, "sort of. I mean, I tried to be friendly, at least. I was actually elected class president," he said pointedly, "and I took that seriously. I wanted them to be comfortable with me."

"So it was political."

Arthur shrugged. "I suppose. But I wanted to represent the entire class. I wanted them to feel like their opinions mattered to me—to their student government, regardless of how many friends they had." 

Merlin didn't say anything. Arthur's cheeks flamed, suddenly, and he felt like he'd said too much. He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. 

"It's not that different here, you know," Merlin said. 

"Isn't it? Isn't the whole point that it's different here?" 

"It wasn't always," Merlin said. "It used to be just like everywhere else."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, looking at him.

Merlin sighed. "I don't know how many of the stories are actually true, but they say that, years ago, Camelot looked just like every other school with your usual selection of teenage stereotypes, including the big bad footballers who ran the show. The magic program was tiny, and the magic students had a really hard go of it—they got picked on, bullied, all of it. Until they'd had enough, and used their magic to turn the tables."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "They ran all the bullies out of school?" he asked, not unimpressed.

"Not at first," Merlin said. "It started out small—just humiliating them from time to time. Everyone's favourite story is one kid spelling the entire football club into complete incompetence—they couldn't even run from one end of the pitch to the other, by the time he was done with them."

Arthur bristled. "Are you lot still doing that?"

"No," Merlin said quickly, "no—using magic on a fellow student is strictly prohibited now, and carefully monitored."

"But our football club is terrible."

Merlin shrugged. "Not because of anything we're doing."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. So a long time ago, some magic kids humiliated a bunch of footballers, so what? Did that really change so much?"

"Not right away," Merlin said. "They fought back, and things escalated, and it got pretty ugly for a while. And then, suddenly, the footballers and all their friends started failing all their A levels."

Arthur frowned. "They spelled them to fail? That seems excessive."

Merlin shrugged. "I wasn't there, so I dunno. But it happened a bunch of years in a row, and Camelot's reputation nose-dived pretty quickly. The non-magic student body dwindled to almost nothing—none of them would come here anymore. From then until Gaius became Headmaster, Camelot enrolled almost exclusively magic students."

"And what did he do?"

"He wanted it to be more inclusive, so he made a bunch of changes he hoped would entice non-magic students to come back. He amped up the non-magic curriculum, got us all taking more non-magic A levels. He tried to get the sports clubs going again, and founded the student council. I think he thought if he could just get magic and non-magic kids together again in the same space, that suddenly we'd sort everything out amongst ourselves." 

Arthur snorted, and Merlin shrugged. "It's a lot better than it was," he said. "But, yeah. It didn't really work."

"Because your lot like being on top too much?"

"Because anyone who's on top likes being there too much," Merlin snapped. "And because change takes time, especially when you're talking about changing attitudes. A lot of people really like Camelot the way it is, and I don't blame them. Most of the kids who have an easy time here wouldn't anywhere else, for exactly the reasons you just demonstrated."

Arthur heaved another sigh. "Fine, whatever," he said. "I got it, all right? I'll stop trying to push my way into your little school and just get through my year here without rocking the boat." He started walking again. 

"Arthur—" Merlin started, but this time he let Arthur pass with a sigh.

Arthur was several yards away when Merlin called after him, "Arthur, wait, no. That's not what I want." He jogged to catch up. "I think Camelot needs to change, and I think maybe it can, but I can't do it alone. I need your help."

Arthur turned around. "What are you talking about?" 

"Camelot could be so much more, if only—" Merlin sighed, and rubbed at his face. "I want the non-magic kids to feel like they belong here. I want everyone to join whatever clubs they like without worrying about—social suicide, or whatever you called it. I want you to be able to wear your stupid football jacket without everyone hating you on sight, before they even know you."

Arthur looked down at his jacket helplessly. "And what am I supposed to do about any of that?"

"I don't know, if I had any idea, I'd have tried it ages ago. But you're here, aren't you? And I think your heart's in the right place—why else were you so eager to serve on the student council?" Merlin held his gaze steadily, and Arthur couldn't look away. "Arthur, I think if we can—if you and I can be friends, if we can figure out how to work together, then maybe—I don't know. I'm probably crazy, but there's something about you, Arthur."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a long time, not saying anything. He sighed and averted his gaze to the ground.

"Do you really think I only want to be your friend out of charity?" Merlin asked, after an age.

"No," Arthur answered, feebly. 

"Good. Cause I honestly do just—actually like you, although I've been questioning my sanity on that front all afternoon."

Arthur huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I can be kind of a prick sometimes."

Merlin chuckled and didn't disagree. 

"Do you wanna come over and have a go on the PlayStation?" Arthur asked, without meaning to. "Or whatever," he added, when Merlin didn't immediately answer. "We could work on that Macbeth assignment, instead."

Merlin was quiet for another long moment and looked steadily at Arthur, smiling in a way that made Arthur want to do something terribly stupid. "I can't," he finally said, "Mum's already been looking for me. Friday, though? After the fair?"

Arthur nodded. "Sure, yeah."

"Great." Merlin retrieved his bike from the grass. He smiled as he got on it. "That's great, Arthur. See you tomorrow."

"Great, yeah," Arthur muttered, as he rode away. "Everything's just bloody great."

#

Friday was sunny and unseasonably warm, which was lucky. The fair began right after school—Arthur, Merlin and a couple members of the cycling club had got permission to leave their last class fifteen minutes early to get the final bits and pieces set up, and things had gone remarkably smoothly. Arthur and Merlin had gone around to all the classrooms during registration on Thursday reminding kids to bring their bikes to school, and a good number of them actually had. The lawn outside the school buildings had been littered with bikes all day—a lot of kids who didn't usually cycle to school had, and at least one person had brought his bike along on the bus.

The fair was in full swing, and Arthur couldn't help but survey it with pride. The feeling was a bit awkward and ill-fitting, for how long it had been since he had experienced it. He wandered over to where Leon was working the bake sale table, having come to Arthur and Merlin's rescue in the kitchen. 

"Honestly, Leon," Arthur said, purchasing his fourth biscuit of the afternoon, "I'm beginning to think you've missed your calling, here. How did I never know you could bake like this?"

Leon just smiled at him, and made change for the next customer. "Everyone's got their secrets, haven't they?" he asked. 

Arthur chewed, and mostly managed not to glare at him. 

"Arthur!" Merlin called, "you get your bike tuned up yet?" 

"Was first in line," he called back, and refused to make eye contact with Leon, who was the only one who knew that Arthur hadn't owned a bike until the night before, and that he'd just paid to have it serviced brand new.

"Good! Gilli's ready whenever you are!"

Arthur groaned. That morning, he'd been riding his new bike from where Leon had dropped him off (a bit further away than usual), when he'd encountered Gilli arriving from the other direction, on a small, pink bike covered in stars and sparkles. Arthur had just stared, speechless.

"You got something to say, Pendragon?" Gilli had challenged him.

"That's a lovely bike," Arthur had managed, "I'm just wondering if you've had a growth spurt, since the last time you rode it."

"It's my sister's, all right?"

"You planning to race on that thing?"

"I'm planning to leave your arse in the dust on this thing."

Arthur had laughed. "You're on, Gilli. If you can beat me on that, I'll donate another twenty quid in your name to the cycling club's marathon." Gilli had raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded. 

"All right," Arthur muttered, "let's get this over with."

Ten minutes later, as he shoved a twenty pound note into the coffer and Merlin recorded Gilli's name on the list of donors with a smirk, Arthur rolled his eyes. "I highly suspect there was magic involved in that."

Merlin just shrugged innocently. 

"There was, wasn't there? He cheated?"

"I don't know," Merlin said, grinning. "Probably, knowing him. But I'm glad to have your money either way, so I'm not gonna say anything about it."

"Prat," Arthur said, but he didn't actually mind very much. He probably would have lost anyway—first day on his new bike and all—and it soothed his ego to think that Gilli may have taken a magical advantage. 

A couple of girls were standing near them, watching the next few races. "Wish I had time for a go," one of them said to the other. "I'd love to show Millie what's what."

"There's plenty of time yet," Arthur said to her. "Have a race, if you like."

"We can't," the girl said. "We've got to leave for our hockey match in a minute."

"Field hockey?" Arthur asked. "You play for the school club?" The girls nodded. "Where's the match?"

"Mercia," one of them replied.

"Good luck," Arthur said, as they left. He turned to Merlin. "Mercia's not far, is it?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. Closer than my house, just in the other direction."

As the fair began to wind down, Arthur stepped up onto a nearby bench to make some closing announcements. "Excuse me," he called to the crowd, "may I have your attention, please?" Most of the surrounding heads turned his way. "I want to thank you all for coming today, participating, and helping to make our Bicycle Awareness Fair such a rousing success. Merlin and I, as your student council representatives, couldn't be more pleased with the turn out. We're moments away from announcing the winner of the raffle, which I know you're all eager to hear, but before we get to that, I have one more announcement.

"In a few minutes, I'm going to get on my bike and ride over to Mercia Academy, where our Camelot girls' field hockey club is about to have a match. I know they'd love a crowd to support them, so if any of you have the time, I hope you'll ride over there with me. It'll be a great opportunity for us all to get our freshly-tuned bikes out on the road, as well as to support our school mates. Thanks again, and I'll let Merlin get up here to announce the winning raffle ticket."

Merlin grinned at him, wide and surprised, before he took Arthur's place on the bench. "I'm in," he said. 

Not everyone came, but they were a good-sized crowd, cycling jovially down the road. The members of the hockey team were gratifyingly wide-eyed and pleased as they rolled up alongside the pitch with a flourish. They cheered the team to a tie that felt very much like a win, and Merlin beamed at Arthur, afterwards, as they climbed back onto their bikes. "Does your PlayStation invitation still stand?" he asked. 

"If you want, yeah," Arthur replied, grinning and not quite looking at him.

#

"Are you doing your A levels in one year, then?" Merlin asked, his thumbs clicking against the PlayStation controller. "Is that even possible? Or are you doing your university applications next year?"

"No, I'm submitting my applications now," Arthur replied. He paused to complete a complicated jump/kick move in the game, and it was an odd sort of relief, having the screen to focus on with Merlin so nearby. "I'm not doing A levels, actually, I'm doing an IB diploma instead. The courses for that are standard all over the world, so the ones I finished at Andersen in Minnesota transferred no problem."

"That's pretty slick."

"Yeah, it's good for people who have to move around to different countries. I think they originally started it for kids of diplomats and things in the sixties, but now anyone can do it. You just have to find schools that offer it."

"That's how you picked Camelot, then? And your school in the States?" 

"Yup. We first heard of it when we were in the Philippines—my dad had me at an international school in Manila, and they suggested it."

"Shit," Merlin suddenly yelled, as his PlayStation persona took a rough tumble off the side of a building. "How was Manila, then?" he asked, as he recovered. "Did you like living there?"

"Yeah, it was all right. A year wasn't really enough time get properly settled, and I was too young to do much of anything, but I liked it. It was way warmer than either here or Minnesota, so that was nice."

"Did it rain as much as they say it does?"

Arthur snorted. "During the season, oh my god."

"More than here, even?"

"Like you've never seen. But the people there are dead friendly, which made for a nice change from here. By which I mean Camelot, by the way." Merlin smirked, but didn't say anything. "They've got these crazy buses there that you'd probably love—called jeepneys. They decorate them all crazy, probably give them stupid names like Kilgharrah and things."

"Oi, watch it."

Arthur laughed, and successfully avoided a trap on the screen. "Anyway, that was the year I started both Spanish and basketball, which was dead useful when I got to the States."

"I've always wondered—why do they call them baskets when they don't have a bottom?" Merlin asked. "I mean, the point of a basket is to hold things, but the ball just falls right through. Why don't they call it hoopball or something?"

"I have no idea."

Merlin tutted. "Well I think it's silly."

"I'm sure the entire basketball playing world will take note of your disapproval."

"Shut up," Merlin said, as their next round started. "So you were on the basketball team as well, last year?"

"Yup."

"How athletic of you."

"Yes, I'm very impressive."

Merlin snorted. "I can imagine the Americans thought so." 

Arthur shrugged. They played in silence for a few minutes. 

"Something else I've always wondered," Merlin began, and stopped.

"What?"

"You know how they always say American women fancy the pants off a British accent, even the real crap ones?"

Arthur snorted. "Yeah?"

"Do the men as well?" Merlin asked, after a moment. 

Arthur blinked, and missed a key jump on the screen. "Um," he said.

"I've always sort of joked," Merlin said, talking quickly, "that if they do, maybe I should go to university over there, since it might be easier to find myself a rich boyfriend."

Arthur's avatar on the screen accidentally performed some sort of spastic back flip, and fell into a pit of venomous snakes. 

"Got to use what you've got, right?" Merlin gave a tight laugh.

Arthur stared at the screen for a moment, willing the huge roil of his stomach to calm down. He glanced at Merlin, who was also staring determinedly at the screen, his ears gone a furious pink. His cheeks were quickly colouring as well, and unexpectedly, Arthur felt his need to put Merlin at ease overriding the thing churning inside him.

"I find it hard to believe that you have trouble getting dates," Arthur said, as his avatar limply tried to jump out of the pit, weak from snake venom, "what with how most of Camelot fawns over you like their lord and master."

Merlin snorted. "Shut up, they don't." 

"They do," Arthur said. "You say jump, they say how high. You tell them to bring their bikes to school, and almost every last one of them does it."

He looked at Merlin, who was smiling at him sidelong, tentatively, and Arthur smiled back. They were sitting close enough for Arthur to knock Merlin companionably with his elbow, which he did. 

"Oi!" Merlin cried, as his avatar fell into some water. "That was your fault! You bollocksed me up!"

"You don't need my help with that, mate," Arthur said, laughing.

#

With the bike fair successfully behind them, Arthur and Merlin both turned their attention in the successive weeks to actual coursework and university applications. Impressed and pleased by their efforts, Headmaster Gaius had been remarkably easy to sway into purchasing the new bike stands and having them installed, and by the first week of October they were in place, covered and all. Arthur was pleased, but Merlin was delighted, and his delight was annoyingly infectious.

"We've got a group coming to your football match tonight," Merlin said, beaming at him one Friday afternoon.

"Really?" Arthur said. 

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. I asked them to make an announcement during registration yesterday in a bunch of the classes, and I think a good crowd's gonna come. We're all gonna ride our bikes again, isn't that great?"

Arthur didn't know quite what to say. "Yeah. That's—that's awesome."

Merlin grinned. "I just hope you lot are as entertaining as the hockey club. Those ladies are fierce."

"We're not. I meant it when I said that we're really quite bad. We've not won a game yet."

"Do you all still wear those knee socks, with shorts and everything?" Merlin asked.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. 

"Cause that's really all that matters, from an entertainment standpoint."

Arthur snorted. "Shut up, Merlin."

#

One Monday in October, they opted to have their student council meeting at Arthur's flat, the better to play video games when they adjourned. Arthur gave Merlin a thorough trouncing, and afterwards, the two of them were lounging on Arthur's bed, avoiding homework.

"What time do you think Leon will be back?" Merlin asked, looking at Arthur's ceiling. It was Leon's night off, but he'd agreed to give Merlin a ride home when he returned.

"Dunno. He said not late. They were just gonna get a light supper after the film, I think."

"It's so funny to think of him being on a date, isn't it? Like he's an actual person or something?"

Arthur snorted. "He dated a lot in the States, actually, so I'm used to the idea."

"Was it the accent, you think?" Merlin asked, grinning.

"Must've been," Arthur agreed. "Can't think of what else." 

They laughed, and then got quiet for a while, for no reason Arthur could work out, until Merlin asked, "So what was it like, with your dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your fights with him. They must have been awful, for you to choose to leave everything. I mean, no one wants to start at a new school with only one year left, and that's people who are miserable. You sound like you actually liked your school, with all your football and basketball and hordes of fawning admirers."

Arthur kicked him. "I never said I had hordes of fawning admirers."

Merlin grinned. "You kinda did." 

"Shut up."

"But seriously, it sounds to me like you were really happy there, so your home life must have been complete shit."

Arthur sighed. He wanted to just nod and say, Y _eah, Dad's bloody awful_ , but he could already feel the truth pushing its way forward, the way it so often did when he was alone with Merlin. "It wasn't—" he started. "It wasn't that bad, really. My father's never been an easy man to be close with, but for the most part we actually get on quite well, when I don't fuck up." 

Merlin looked at him, frowning.

"I wasn't honest about why I left," Arthur admitted. "Things did get pretty dicey with my dad, but only because of something else that happened. That didn't have anything to do with him."

"You don't have to tell me," Merlin said, after Arthur was quiet for a minute.

"I know," Arthur said. He swallowed. "I was expelled, actually." He glanced helplessly at Merlin and away, and started picking at a loose thread on his duvet cover. "So I didn't have a choice about leaving. Well, I chose to come here—back to England, I mean—I could have stayed in the States, but. I decided not to."

"Shit," Merlin said, after a moment. "What happened?" He sounded more concerned than scandalised, so Arthur took a breath and continued. 

"The official record is that I was expelled for reckless and criminal behaviour." He glanced at Merlin briefly, who was looking at him with wide eyes. "Drunk driving," Arthur finally managed, "and underage drinking."

"Shit," Merlin said again. "Is that why you can't get a licence?" Arthur nodded. There was an unbearable silence, while Arthur's confession sunk in. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care if Merlin judged him for this, that theirs wasn't yet the sort of friendship it would hurt to lose, but he didn't get very far convincing himself. 

Merlin shifted on the bed, and for a moment Arthur thought he was getting up to leave, but he only sat up so he could face Arthur properly. "So if that's the official record," Merlin said, when he was settled, "what actually happened?" 

Arthur gave him a rueful smile. "Some of it happened like that," he said. "You can't drink at all there, until you're twenty-one, and I did, so. That part happened." He took a deep breath. "It was in the spring, near the end of the basketball season. Most of us were on the football team together too, so we were all good friends. One of the blokes on the team's parents were out of town, so he had a party. It was quite, um," Arthur paused to blow out a breath, "well-stocked. He had a couple of older brothers, I think, who could buy for him, so it was really easy. You remember my mate, Val? Chris Valiant, from that football picture?" 

Merlin nodded. 

"He was especially well pissed—we all were, but he was—beyond. Anyway, he ended up getting really mad and decided to leave the party. This was at, like, one in the morning. He got in his car, and I was running after him, banging on his windows, whatever, telling him not to be so stupid. He didn't make it very far. Only managed to back the car out into the street, ram it into two parked cars at once, get it going forwards and into a tree. He never got the thing going over about fifteen miles an hour, so no one was hurt and there wasn't any truly serious damage, but there was no question what had happened."

"Good thing he didn't run you over," Merlin said.

Arthur huffed a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I guess. So, he got out of the car and started, just—freaking out. He already had a couple of marks on his record, and had been told if he fucked up again, there'd be serious hell to pay. He already had university lined up at that point, with an athletic scholarship and everything, so this was going to be really bad. He'd lose all of that, no question." The loose thread Arthur was pulling at gave a little, a couple stitches coming undone, so it was long enough to wrap around his fingertip. 

"Whereas I," he continued, "had a clean record. Not so much as a detention in two years." 

"Arthur," Merlin said, and Arthur couldn't look at him. "Arthur, tell me you didn't." 

"It seemed likely they'd go easier on me. And it was my fault—the reason he got so mad in the first place was because of an argument he and I'd been having, so. It felt like I had to. I felt like I owed it to him. The cops were there so fast—a neighbour must have called as soon as I started yelling at him, I dunno. Maybe even sooner. So there wasn't time to think it through. Not that I could have, at the time." 

"But you told them afterwards, right? That Val had coerced you into taking the fall for him?" 

Arthur shook his head. "He didn't coerce me. Not really. It was my own decision. Not a wise one, perhaps, but mine."

Merlin looked horrified. "Arthur, are you serious?"

Arthur just shrugged. "The school decided to make an example of me. Not that it wasn't a justified punishment, because it was. We were just about to have the elections for the following year's student council, and it was basically assumed that I'd be elected student body president, as a senior. And then this happened, and I think they wanted to show that none of us was above the rules, and they were right to do it. I was lucky, actually—not only did they allow me to come back to sit my exams so the year wasn't completely wasted, but the court let me off easy in light of my immediate expulsion. Just a bit of community service over the summer. If Andersen had let me stay, I'd probably have got a lot more." 

Merlin fish-mouthed. "What are you talking about, 'they were right to do it' and 'justified punishment'? You didn't do anything!"

"They didn't know that."

"What about your father?" Merlin all but shouted. "Surely, once he knew the truth, he didn't just sit by and watch you take the full brunt of it, while bloody Val skated off to university like it was nothing?" 

"It wasn't nothing. He lost his scholarship. His parents could afford to pay his tuition, so it didn't matter as much as it could have, but it was something. And my father didn't know the truth." 

"What?"

Arthur shrugged. 

"You let him think you did it? Does he still think you did it?" 

"I took full responsibility, Merlin." 

"So you never told anyone? No one knows?" 

"Leon knows. Not officially, because I never admitted to him that he was right, but he never believed that I did it." 

Merlin breathed a small laugh. "I'm glad someone in your life sees you for who you really are." 

Arthur snorted, and looked away.

There was another silence, for a long minute. "Why did you tell me?" 

Arthur looked at him. "What?" 

"You've never told anyone, not even admitted it to _Leon_. Why did you tell me?" 

Arthur blinked, and felt his heart speed up. "I don't know," he said, and it was the truth. "Just wanted you to know, I guess." He turned back to the loose thread between his fingers, blushing. 

"You are infuriating," Merlin said softly. 

"Sorry," Arthur replied, not really understanding. 

There was a beat, and then Merlin was moving, pushing himself up over his knees and into Arthur's personal space. Arthur frowned as Merlin ducked his head right in, clumsily pushing their mouths together. It was awkward and a little painful, and one of Merlin's hands came up to Arthur's shoulder and gripped, fingers digging shakily into the muscle. Arthur made a strange noise and couldn't move.

Merlin gave a hard gasp and pulled away. "Shit," he said, his ears suddenly very red. "Shit, sorry. Arthur, I—sorry." He pushed himself off the bed awkwardly and bolted from the room. 

Arthur sat for several seconds, frozen. Every feeling he'd so determinedly buried since the first day came bursting back to the surface, tangled up with every rationalising thought he'd used to bury them—thoughts of Val, his father, his football mates, his future—none of which, he realised with an unsettlingly calm certainty, actually mattered at all in the face of Merlin kissing him.

The sound of the flat's front door opening and closing finally snapped him back to life, and he barrelled out the door and down the stairs. 

"Merlin!" he called, when he got outside. "Merlin, stop!" 

Merlin was far away, much further down the road than Arthur expected him to be, and he _would_ choose this moment to reveal himself as a bloody sprinting star, Arthur thought, suspecting magic, and he started off after him. 

"Merlin, wait!" he called again, and ahead of him Merlin slowed and turned. He didn't stop, kept taking small steps backwards down the road. "Stop it, come back!" Arthur yelled down at him. 

"Really?" Merlin called back. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, not really! I'm out here in the cold without a jacket because I don't mean it." Merlin didn't move, visibly panting. Arthur slowed to a walk but didn't stop, kept moving towards Merlin. 

Merlin heaved a great sigh and, after an age, started walking back. 

They stopped with a few feet still between them. 

"You really are an arse, you know," Merlin said, his breathing uneven. 

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I know. And you're an idiot."

A long moment passed, the two of them only panting. 

"I told myself I wouldn't say anything," Merlin said quietly. "I didn't want you to feel—awkward, or—"

Arthur watched him stare at the ground. He wanted to say something to get Merlin looking at him again, but he couldn't think of what, so he gave up and crossed the last few feet between them and kissed him. Judging from the noise that came from somewhere in Merlin's throat, it was the right choice. His lips were dry and a little chapped against Arthur's, and he tasted like the mince pie they'd had for supper, and he didn't kiss with any sort of finesse, and he was exactly what Arthur wanted. 

"Arthur," Merlin said, when they broke apart, "I—" 

"I've wanted to kiss you since my first day," Arthur said, without meaning to. "I tried to stop. I tried to hate you, but—it didn't work."

Merlin stared at him, and Arthur wanted to take the words back. "So—you're an idiot, in addition to being an arse?" Merlin finally said. 

"Yeah," Arthur agreed, nodding helplessly. 

Merlin snorted a laugh, and Arthur smiled despite himself. Merlin looped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in close, and they stood in the middle of the quiet road, kissing like the idiots they were, until the rain started up again and they were both shivering from the cold. 

"Shit," Arthur said, when they were back at the building's front door. His left hand was firmly clasped in Merlin's, and his right was pawing at his empty trouser pockets fruitlessly. "I've left my keys inside." 

Merlin shuttered with cold. "Seriously?"

"Was a bit distracted, sorry."

"Shit," Merlin said, giving a shivery laugh. "D'you think Leon would come home early so we don't freeze?"

"Probably, but—"

"Your phone's inside, as well."

"Yeah."

"Mine too."

"Brilliant." Arthur looked around, his eyes settling on the covered car park. "Let's at least get out of the rain," he said.

They jogged over to Leon's empty parking stall and sat down, pressing as close as they could. Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around Merlin's shoulders, and held on.

#

"Was he your boyfriend?" Merlin asked tentatively, some time later. Out of the rain, they'd managed to warm up a little bit, as the sound of the it echoed off the concrete around them.

"No," Arthur answered. 

"But you were in love with him?" It didn't really sound like a question.

"Love's a strong word for it." 

"Is it? Look at what you did for him—what you gave up for him. Did he know?"

Arthur took a minute to answer. "I kissed him that night. At the party. That's why he ran off."

"Shit," Merlin breathed. 

"Yeah. I never would have, sober. That's why I felt the whole thing was my fault."

"It wasn't."

"Yeah."

"It really wasn't, Arthur."

"I know." He didn't, really, but he was starting to think he could get there. 

Merlin sighed. "What was he like with you, afterwards? After everything was settled."

"We haven't talked since."

"What?" Merlin lifted his head to look at him. "Are you serious?"

Arthur nodded. "Everyone who was at the party was suspended from school immediately, and the rest of the basketball season was cancelled. By the time the initial suspensions were over, they'd decided to expel me, so. We were never in the same room again."

"But he was your best mate."

"He had been, up until then."

"I don't understand. How do you just—never speak to your best mate again?"

Arthur shrugged.

"And the rest of your team?"

"The same. I don't know how much they saw, or what Val told them afterwards, but none of them have spoken to me since that night."

Merlin stared at him. "You lost everything—your entire world—for him, and he didn't so much as say thank you? I fucking hate him."

Arthur chuckled. "Thank you, Merlin." Merlin put his head back down to Arthur's chest, and Arthur couldn't stop himself threading his fingers into his hair. He'd wondered, of course, about what had gone on in Val's head, and he'd held onto his hope for far too long that he'd come around and contact Arthur again. But sitting here with Merlin, feeling welcome and wanted and warm despite the cold, he found himself finally starting to care a little bit less. 

"It doesn't feel like it, anymore," he said. 

"Hmm?" Merlin rumbled against Arthur's chest. "Like what?"

"Like I lost everything."

Merlin lifted his head to look Arthur in the eye, and Arthur couldn't stop himself kissing him again. He had just begun to make a proper mess of Merlin's hair when the bright headlights of Leon's car came swooping into the parking stall.

#

Leon let them back into the flat, and then insisted on taking Merlin home almost immediately, which was actually mostly fine by Arthur, since the three of them attempting to make small talk in the lounge was painfully awkward. He changed into his pyjamas and collapsed onto his bed without cleaning his teeth, not ready to wash away the taste of Merlin just yet.

After about ten minutes, his phone chirped. 

_Seems Leon is rather fond of you after all_. 

Arthur flushed fiercely, and thumbed his reply. _Oh god what did he say_

_That you're kind of an idiot. And that if I break your heart, he'll run over my bike with his car._

Arthur barked a laugh. _He threatened to kill Kill Garra??? How fitting_

_It's spelt Kilgharrah, arse. And ok no, he didn't say that last bit. But he has a very strict "no breaking Arthur's heart" policy, apparently._

It was a minute before Arthur could reply. 

_(I promised not to, by the way.)_

_Im gonna kill leon_

_But then how will you get to school? I want to see you tomorrow._

_Good point his execution will have 2 wait_

_Sigh, we really are gonna have to talk about they way you text. Good night, Arthur._

Arthur was just sending a snarky, annoyingly abbreviated reply when he heard Leon come back into the flat. He thought about switching off the light and pretending to be asleep, but he didn't move, and shortly Leon appeared in his doorway. Neither of them spoke right away, as Leon settled himself against the door frame.

"Are you in or out of uniform right now?" Arthur asked.

"Still my night off, isn't it?"

"You just chauffeured Merlin home."

"Favour for a friend. Off the clock."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. 

"I like Merlin a lot," Leon said. "If he told you I threatened to drive over his bike with the car, it's a lie."

Arthur laughed right out loud. He quieted and felt his cheeks heat in the moment before he asked, "And what if he breaks my heart, then?"

"Well, in that case, it'll be true. And that'll be the least of it."

Arthur couldn't find anything to say to that, so he just gave a sheepish little laugh.

"I'm happy for you, Arthur," Leon said. "You deserve to be happy." Arthur had to look away without answering, suddenly fighting something hot and itchy behind his eyes. "Good night," Leon said, straightening and disappearing beyond the door. 

Instead of calling out his own good night, Arthur found himself on his feet, following him. 

"Arthur?" Leon said as he turned, and Arthur didn't say anything, just walked right up to him and embraced him, arms tight around his shoulders, temple pressed to his ear. There were so many things Arthur wanted to say to Leon that he didn't have the words for—so many thank-yous he didn't know where to start—but Leon's arms wrapped around his back and stayed there until Arthur let go, so maybe Leon understood.

"How was your date?" Arthur asked, gruffly, as he pulled away. 

Leon's face lit up. "Really nice, thanks."

Arthur grinned. "Where did you meet this person, anyway?"

"She's called Gwen, and don't sound so surprised, I go places."

"Like where? The supermarket?"

"Shut up, you. Come have a drink with me, and I'll tell you all about her. And you can tell me about your evening, up until the point I found you the pair of you in that parking stall."

#

Arthur woke up the next morning to the sound of bucketing rain against his window, but he didn't notice it until Leon asked him, over breakfast, how Merlin would get to school on a day like this. Arthur frowned at him, chewing his toast. "On a day like wh—oh," he said, looking out the window and coming back down to earth a little. "Dunno. He told me he rides his bike rain or shine, so."

"We could offer to pick him up, if you want." 

"All right," Arthur said, shooting for nonchalant. _Leon is offering u a lift to school so u dont drown_ , he texted.

_Tell Leon thank you very much, but Mum already drove me on her way to work._

_Ur already there? Gross_

_Since 7.15. Prob for the best - magic theory test third hour that I didn't study for last night at ALL._

_Not sorry_

_Me neither._

Arthur thought about asking Leon to take him to school a little early, but felt silly. So he arrived at the regular time and heard little to nothing that the teachers in his first three classes had to say, and then went to lunch, his eyes darting every which way, despite his brain's strict instructions to play it cool. Merlin wasn't anywhere to be seen, and it took Arthur's sluggish brain a few minutes to register that neither were any of the other magic students in their year. 

Arthur sat down at an empty table and pulled out his phone, checking for emails with one hand and tucking into his sweet and sour pork with the other. 

"Do you mind if we sit here?" someone asked, and Arthur looked up in surprise. It was two girls he recognised from the hockey team. 

"Um, yeah," he said, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I mean, no, I don't mind. Please sit."

The girls smiled and sat, and Arthur had an urge to check he hadn't slopped any food down his shirt. His socialising skills were certainly rusty. 

"We wanted to thank you," one of the girls said after an awkward bit of small talk, "for drumming up interest in our hockey matches. We've had so many supporters lately."

"I just suggested it," Arthur said. "You're the ones who kept them coming back."

"It's really helped, though," the other girl said. "We've been playing so much better because of it—I think we actually have a shot at making the championship match this year. It's unbelievable."

Arthur grinned. "That's great." 

A couple of others joined them—a bloke from the football club, and a couple of younger magic students who wanted to ask Arthur what he knew about magic schools in the States (nothing at all, he was afraid)—and Arthur lost track of the time in talking to them. The canteen was clearing out by the time he checked his watch, and realised Merlin had missed the entire lunch hour. 

"Have you seen any of the upper sixth magic students?" he asked the table at large.

One of the younger sorcerers shook her head. "I know they had a theory exam that was supposed to be a beast—it must have run over time something awful."

Arthur doubted Merlin had packed a lunch today, what with leaving for school almost two hours early, so he jogged back up to the counter. He grabbed a wrapped sandwich, making sure it didn't have any meat in it, and took a couple of steps towards the cashier before stopping himself. He did a quick bit of counting in his head and then went back to the shelf of sandwiches. 

He was in his usual seat in the classroom when the magic students arrived all in a pack, looking haggard. Merlin was right in the middle of them, and Arthur had to be careful not to burst into a stupid grin at their first brief but electric bit of eye contact. Merlin was less careful, smiling tiredly as he took his seat next to Arthur. 

"Looks like it was pretty brutal," Arthur said.

Merlin made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. "You've no idea."

"Did you get any lunch?"

Merlin shook his head. "I think I have an old bag of crisps somewhere in my bag, so hopefully I'll make it to the end of the day."

"Or you could have this," Arthur said, pulling the egg sandwich out of his bag. 

Merlin blinked at it. "What's this?"

Arthur shrugged. "Grabbed it from the canteen for you. Can't have you fading away."

Merlin stared at him, a slow but enormous smile on his face. Arthur shoved the sandwich at him, looking away. 

"Aw, thanks so _much_ , Pendragon!" Gilli groaned from the behind him. "Just what I wanted—to watch Merlin stuff his face while I look forward to an afternoon of starving."

"Keep your pants on, Gilli," Arthur said, rolling his eyes. "There's plenty more where that came from." He pulled his bag wide open and turned so Gilli could see the several more sandwiches inside. "Help yourself," Arthur said.

Gilli blinked down at the open bag, dumbfounded. "You serious?" 

"Yeah," Arthur said, shrugging, "if you want. You don't have to. Just don't take the vegetable wrap, that one's for Freya." He glanced over at Freya. "You can eat those ones, right?" She nodded. He was relieved; he'd thought he'd seen her buying one a couple of times, but couldn't quite remember.

The room was completely still for a moment, no one moving, until Gilli grinned and shot his hand into Arthur's bag, and suddenly Arthur's seat was surrounded by several eager classmates, all smiling at him with open surprise. 

"Cheers, mate," Gilli said as Arthur put his empty bag under his seat. 

"Cheers," Arthur replied over his shoulder, and then straightened his notebook and pencil to avoid looking at Merlin. 

"So," Merlin said, after a minute, "you're new."

Arthur huffed a laugh. "Well spotted." He smiled down at his notebook until he found the courage to look at Merlin, who was grinning at him. There was nothing Arthur wanted more, in that moment, than to lean over and kiss the grin right off Merlin's face, but he didn't.

#

"It's going to be a while, isn't it?" Merlin asked him the next night, as Arthur watched him prepare dinner for his mum again. "Until you'll let me kiss you in public?"

Arthur shoved a cherry tomato in his mouth to avoid answering. 

"I mean," Merlin continued, "it was _weeks_ before you'd acknowledge that we were friends, so. My expectations here have been very thoroughly managed."

Arthur chewed, swallowed. He wanted to say no, but the thought of it turned his stomach into a hornets' nest. "Probably," he finally said. "Yeah. I mean, I dunno. A while, probably." His cheeks were burning, and Merlin wasn't looking at him, focusing on the garlic and peppers in his frying pan. "Is that OK?" Arthur asked, feebly.

"Yeah, of course," Merlin said quickly. He looked up at Arthur, and smiled. "So long as I get to keep doing it when we're alone." 

Arthur tried to look considering, but he doubted he was very convincing. "I suppose you can," he said, "if you feel you must." 

Merlin did feel he must, apparently, and decided to show Arthur exactly how much, and if the peppers were somewhat savagely overdone by the time they finally made it out of the pan, Hunith didn't have anything to say about it.

#

It did take a while, of course, but not nearly as long as Arthur thought it would, when Merlin asked him.

The final football match of the year was at a school across town and was a roaring social event, with what looked like most of the student body in attendance. Something like a hundred bicycles were parked along pavement, locked to the back of the stands, or just tossed down on the grass near the crowd as they cheered and held up placards, many of them magically animated. 

The team was losing, horribly, but no one in the stands seemed to care at all. 

Arthur grinned up at the crowd whenever there was a break in play, and he knew it was Merlin who had talked them into coming this far. He searched all the faces, until he found Merlin's, right in the centre, split wide with a smile. Arthur watched him, while the coaches argued with the ref over some irrelevant call, and felt something in his chest give way—crumble or unwind—and suddenly the prospect of being the boyfriend of the most popular boy in school—in this bizarre little school—didn't seem like such a terrible thing.

After the game, when Merlin came jogging down from the stands, cheeks and ears pink from the cold, grinning like he didn't know how not to, Arthur didn't feel like he'd made a decision, exactly, but it felt like he'd found something.

"That was brilliant!" Merlin called from a few feet away, over the sounds of the crowd. "Really fun! God, why haven't we been doing this all along?"

Arthur grinned at back him. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Are you sad it's the last one?"

Arthur toed off his football shoes as he unlaced his street shoes. "I'll miss it, yeah."

"Some of us talked about grabbing dinner at a pub we passed on the way here. You interested?" Arthur stuffed his football shoes into his bag. "I mean, if you're not too worried about looking like my friend in front of all these people," Merlin teased, with a smirk.

Arthur shot him a sideways glare, tossed his bag over his shoulder, and then stepped in close, right into Merlin's personal space. Merlin's eyes went a bit wide, but he didn't move. "I'm not worried about that, no," Arthur said.

The corner of Merlin's mouth twitched, and Arthur wanted to kiss it. "Does that mean you want to come?" Merlin asked, after a moment.

"So long as I get to have you to myself afterwards," Arthur said, and he leaned in to kiss the upturned corner of Merlin's mouth before he could talk himself out of it. 

Arthur could feel Merlin draw a shaky breath against him, and his mouth spread into another large smile under Arthur's lips.

"I suppose you can," Merlin said, finding Arthur's hand with cold fingers, "if you feel you must."

It was a long couple of hours out with the group, with a promise like that to look forward to, but Arthur found himself having a good time. He got a warm shot of nerves every time he took Merlin's hand, and he barely ate a thing. He knew he probably looked like an idiot, smiling the way he was, but no one seemed to mind—they just smiled back, glancing at his and Merlin's clasped hands with interest, but nothing more. It all felt too good to be true, and Arthur's chest hurt with it.

He was alone in the loo at the end of the night, just before he and Merlin left, when Gilli walked in as he was washing his hands. Gilli stood in front of the door, blocking Arthur's exit, and Arthur's stomach was suddenly a knot.

"Hey, Gilli," he said, uneasily.

"Hey," Gilli answered. "You and Merlin, eh? You're together?"

"Um," Arthur said, drying his hands on his football shorts, "yeah."

Gilli nodded, and didn't say anything for a moment. "Look, Pendragon, I know you and me didn't get off to the greatest start," he said, "but we're mates now. And I'm glad."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, Gilli. Me too."

"But, for the record—" Arthur took a involuntary deep breath "—if you break his heart, I know a spell that will make your balls itch for the rest of your life."

Arthur barked a huge, surprised laugh. 

"I'll use it, Pendragon." 

"Gilli," Arthur said, grinning, "I would expect nothing less," and it was the truth. 

"All right," Gilli said, nodding. "Just so we're clear."

"We're clear," Arthur said. Gilli clapped him on the shoulder, and Arthur clapped him back, and they were skirting around the edge of a proper hug by the time Arthur was allowed to leave the loo.

#

It was a long ride back to Arthur's flat, and as they secured their bikes to the stands at the edge of the car park, they looked up at the dim light coming from Leon's bedroom window. "Do you think it's all right that I'm here?" Merlin asked. "And not planning to leave?"

Arthur nodded. "We talked about it. He knows we're not children."

Merlin's eyebrows rose. "How'd that conversation go?"

"I don't really want to revisit it," Arthur said. "But about as well as it could have."

Merlin snickered, and they entered the flat quietly. "Do you want anything to drink?" Arthur whispered, as they toed off their shoes, and Merlin shook his head. They crept down the corridor and into Arthur's room.

Arthur shut the door, and they didn't look at each other for a moment. 

"Thank you," Merlin said, "for tonight. It felt—I'm really glad everyone knows now." 

Arthur looked at him. "Me too," he said. 

"Yeah?" Merlin asked, looking unsure. "You weren't uncomfortable? Or freaked out about it?"

Arthur huffed a small laugh. "I had my moments," he admitted. "But the good ones definitely won out."

Merlin smiled a little and took Arthur's hand. Arthur wanted to kiss him, but he couldn't seem to move. Merlin looked down at their hands, his breathing shallow. He laced their fingers together and apart again, skimmed his thumb over Arthur's palm and the underside of his wrist, and Arthur shivered. 

"I really want to kiss you," Merlin said, quietly, "but I can't seem to move."

Arthur snorted, and Merlin looked at him. "I was just thinking the exact same, utterly stupid thing," he said, and Merlin laughed, and then it was easy, like it always was, to sink into kissing Merlin like there was nothing else in the world worth doing. 

They stood in the middle of the room and kissed slowly for several minutes, a little shaky but determined. Arthur slid his hand up to the side of Merlin's throat and let his thumb rest over the tiny, insistent flutter of Merlin's pulse as he moved to the side and kissed Merlin's ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth. Merlin made a small noise, and Arthur smiled. 

He eyed the bed over Merlin's shoulder and thought about stepping them towards it, imagined pushing Merlin down onto it. He swallowed.

Merlin's eyes were glassy and his lips red when Arthur pulled back to look at him. They were both hard. 

"I think I should—take a shower," Arthur said. "I stink like football."

Merlin blinked, before wrinkling his nose. "You really do," he said. Arthur snorted and thwapped him, which made Merlin laugh, and then Arthur had to kiss him again. 

"OK, OK, I'll be right back," Arthur said, finally pulling away. He stepped back towards the bathroom, but stopped when Merlin didn't let go of his hand. 

"Is there, um," Merlin began without looking at him, and his ears were that shade of red again, the one that made Arthur's stomach go tight, "enough room for two? In your shower?" 

Arthur's cock, if it were possible, got even harder. He couldn't answer right away, as his mouth went dry. 

"We don't have to—do anything," Merlin added, against Arthur's silence. "But I'm dirty, too, and. I dunno, it—"

"Yes," Arthur cut him off. 

Merlin looked at him.

"It's big enough. The shower."

Merlin blinked. "Do you want me to—"

"Yes," Arthur said again, nodding his head for emphasis. 

So Merlin followed Arthur into the bathroom, their hands still clasped, and they didn't let go as Arthur turned the shower on, testing the temperature with his free hand. "OK," he said, after a minute.

They let go of each other, their hands going awkwardly to their own clothing. There was a beat, during which neither of them moved, until Arthur finally just did it, pulled his shirt up over his head and pushed his football shorts and pants down in one, not wanting to draw it out, lest he lost his nerve. When he looked up, Merlin was stripping as well, and then they were both naked, staring at each other with insistent, achingly hard cocks. 

"Come on," Arthur said, reaching towards Merlin. Merlin took his hand and they stepped into the shower one after the other, taking it in turns to stand under the spray. Arthur took the soap and washed himself with business-like efficiency, wanting to get the necessities out of the way. He handed Merlin the soap and turned away, shy about soaping his dick and balls with Merlin watching. He heard Merlin behind him, lathering the soap in his hands and then on his body, and Arthur distracted himself rubbing shampoo into his hair. 

"Can I wash your back?" Merlin asked uncertainly, breaking their silence. Arthur looked over his shoulder at him. 

"Yeah," he said. "Just let me—" He ducked his head under the water, rinsing out the shampoo. He stepped back so the water hit his chest. 

Merlin's hand came tentatively to Arthur's back, pressing the bar of soap to his skin, sliding it across his shoulder blades and down, over the small of his back and lower, stopping just short of his arse. Merlin set the soap back in its dish and pressed both his hands to Arthur's skin, sliding them through the soapy slickness. Arthur closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, breathing into the feel of Merlin's hands on him. His cock pulsed.

"You're so hot like this," Merlin said, his voice shaking, and he was so much closer than Arthur had realised. He leaned in to press a kiss to Arthur's shoulder, and his stiff cock brushed against Arthur's arse.

Arthur lost his breath for a moment, then spun around to kiss him urgently. Merlin's arms wound around his shoulders and pulled him close, so their cocks knocked together, leaving Arthur dizzy. They'd touched each other's erections before, but only ever through their clothes and in a rush before one of them had to go—never anything like this, naked and wet and totally open. 

Merlin's body pressed against his was intoxicating, and Arthur skittered a hand down his side to his hip, and then between their bodies to Merlin's cock. He slid his fingers around it loosely, and Merlin gasped. 

"Is this OK?" he asked. "Can I—"

"Yeah," Merlin answered, breathy and gone, "please, yeah," so Arthur closed his fingers more tightly around Merlin's shaft and started rubbing it up and down. He watched his hand move, not quite believing it was real, not quite trusting that the weight of Merlin's cock against his fingers wasn't just his imagination.

Merlin pawed at him, wanting something, and Arthur looked up at him in confusion. 

"Wha—" he started, but Merlin surged forward and pushed him up against the shower wall, crowded in close and kissed him hard. Arthur grunted and opened his mouth, sliding his tongue against Merlin's as it pushed past his lips. Merlin batted Arthur's hand out of the way, and then wrapped his long, hot fingers around both of their cocks at once so they slid together, tip to root, flush along their lengths. Arthur choked and bucked his hips, knocking his head against the wall. 

"Merlin," he groaned, helplessly, as Merlin buried his face in the crook of Arthur's shoulder and continued to jack them both, breathing hard and fast against Arthur's wet skin. Arthur screwed his eyes closed and clawed at Merlin's shoulders, slid one hand up the back of Merlin's head to bury his fingers in thick, wet hair, and then he was coming, pulling Merlin's hair and spurting all over his hand and cock. Merlin shuttered and shortly followed him over the edge, and then they were just standing under the water and panting, until they were kissing, endlessly, and the water was starting to run cool.

"Are you clean enough yet to go back into the bedroom?" Merlin mumbled against Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur chuckled. He shut the water off and reached past the shower curtain for a towel, which he wrapped around Merlin's shoulders before grabbing a second one off the rack.

They didn't say anything, and Arthur started to smile as he dragged the towel over his body and watched Merlin do the same.

"What?" Merlin asked, his ears pink, his mouth turning up at the corners.

"Nothing," Arthur answered, and his smile got bigger. Merlin smiled back, bashful, and Arthur had to kiss him again.

They did eventually make it back into the bedroom, mostly dry and unable to stop touching one another. Merlin threw back the covers on Arthur's bed and jumped in, stark naked. Arthur stood by the bed, catching his breath. 

"C'mon," Merlin said. "Get in."

Arthur grinned and made a quick detour to his chest of drawers to retrieve two pairs of boxer shorts. He pulled one on and tossed the other at Merlin's head. "Just in case we get an unexpected visit from Leon in the morning," he said. 

"All right, all right," Merlin said, pretending to pout as he pulled them on. Arthur switched off the light and climbed into bed, sliding in close and pulling Merlin flush against him. 

There were a number of things he almost said in the minutes before they fell asleep, some of them teasing and some of them not, but he didn't manage any of them. Merlin pulled Arthur's arms tight around him, snuggled in close and hummed contentedly. Arthur pressed his lips to Merlin's shoulder and gave in to sleep.

#

Arthur winced as he woke to the sharp glare of sunlight through his bedroom window. His phone buzzed against the nightstand. He frowned at it in annoyance, but reached for it anyway. Next to him, Merlin continued snoring softly, and Arthur had to stop mid-reach to snicker at him. His phone buzzed again, impatiently, and Arthur continued grinning as he thumbed in his passcode.

He had fourteen new emails, which seemed like a lot. All but two of them were Facebook friend requests. One of the others was a Facebook photo notification, and the second was yet another Val alert email, which Arthur knew he would unsubscribe from soon. He scanned the names on the friend requests, and clicked on the photo notification. He hadn't been tagged in a photo on Facebook in ages, not since he'd last had friends—not since before he was expelled. He clicked the link, and the picture loaded, and his stomach lurched.

It was a picture of him and Merlin, from the previous night. They were on the pitch together, smiling. Their faces were very close together, and Arthur knew it was the moment just after he'd kissed him. It was an intimate picture, which had no business on Facebook, and Arthur's thumb was hovering over the tagging icon so he could remove his name when he noticed how many likes the photo had. 

Thirty-four.

In the hour since it had been posted, thirty-four people had liked this photograph of Arthur and Merlin all but kissing. Arthur swallowed, and tapped the screen to pull up the list of people who'd liked it. 

They were all familiar names, people from school. Several of them were the same names on the friend requests in his inbox, and the rest were surely friends of Merlin, except for the very first one on the list, the only one Arthur was already Facebook friends with: Chris Valiant. 

Arthur stared at his name, unable to process it. 

His heart hammering, he went back to his email and looked more closely at the message with Val's name in the subject line, and it wasn't a Google Alert after all. It was a Facebook message. 

_Hey man. You look really happy. I'm glad._  
 _I never apologized, or even said thank you. I know I'm a dick. Sorry._  
 _Thank you. I didn't deserve what you did for me._  
 _-Val_

Arthur stared at the message for a long while and nearly deleted it without replying, but changed his mind. He'd grown rather fond of telling the truth. _You are a dick,_ he wrote _, but I'm not sorry. Turns out it was the best thing that ever happened to me._ He hit send, deleted the original message, and turned his phone completely off in favour of burrowing back into bed.

He slid right up behind Merlin's long, warm body, wrapped an arm around his middle and pulled them as close together as he could. Merlin stirred, making a low sound in his throat. "Hi," he said, voice sleep-rough.

"Hi," Arthur whispered.

"Everything OK?" Merlin asked.

"Yeah," Arthur said.

Merlin cocked his head up off the pillow. "Arthur, are you shaking?" He slid a hand over Arthur's on his stomach, and Arthur pulled him closer.

"Yeah, sorry. A little. It's OK, though—everything's fine." He sighed, taking a deep breath that smelled of nothing but Merlin, and felt his nerves start to calm. He spread his fingers wide under Merlin's hand, and Merlin threaded their fingers together obligingly. "Everything's great," he said, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like the truth.


End file.
